Too Dark To See A Thing
by Eriksangelofmusic4ever
Summary: During the Final Lair scene, Erik doesn't get out in time, and is beaten by the mob. When he awakes, everything is dark. Left blinded by the mob, can Erik ever learn to live again? E/C as always.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone, I'm back for another story. I'm always back. This one actually came to me in a dream….the idea did anyway. So, I liked it and decided to see where it could go in a story form. Here's the first chapter and I hope you like it. Make sure to review so I know to keep it going. Thanks again….and let our story begin. **

**Erik's POV**

I had her! I had Christine in the grasp of my bare hands. My hands were coated in the world's blood, and yet, here I was cursing myself by letting them touch such an angelic creature; God's finest! Seeing her engaged to that boy was the final straw! The crescendo of all operas! Christine was the only female and being on this earth that I had ever loved, and I was damned to let her frolic away from me hand in hand with another boy! That boy, that incompatible fool! He wasn't in love with her, he was in love with the simple idea of it, and Christine, my little angel, was being played like a fiddle. She was young, and knew no more about love than I did. We were both new to the entire thing, and like a little lost puppy, she followed the first boy who threw her a bone. His perfect hair, his muscular body, his vacant expressions! I hated them all! I hated everything about him! I hated how perfect he was, and the fact that Christine sought him out!

I overheard the boy tell the managers of _my _opera house that he was going to take Christine away after my Don Juan opera. That he was going to elope with my angel and stop at the first alter they found. My mind was racing, my blood was boiling, and my heart slowly breaking. No! Not up in this opera house! I would allow no such thing. What hurt even worse was the fact that Christine didn't seem to mind. She kept this from me-as if she wanted to leave me. Had I done her so much wrong? Was I truly that hideous to be in her company? All I ever wanted was one kind word, just one. Even if she could never tell the truth, hearing a lie from her was better than hearing nothing at all. My own mother couldn't even say one kind thing to me, and I'd be damned to let Christine leave me now.

She was in my hands now! I had her wrist tightly within my grasp, pulling her down below the familiar stairs of the fifth cellar to get to my lair. I had been smarter than them all! I had killed Piange and taken his place on stage as Don Juan. I finally had Christine where I wanted her, and what does she do? Goes and ruins everything by tearing off my mask, showing me off like a sideshow freak to all of Paris. I wore that mask to protect her, I wore that mask to show her that I respected her wishes not to see my face. Well now, she'll look at me! She'll look at me and like it! Look at me and know that it was she who had done this, she who had caused her own fear!

"…_..Why you ask was I bound and chained in this cold, dismal place!" _I spat this as I leaned over her cowering body in my gondola. My face was so close to hers, but she buried hers in the pillows that lined the inside of my boat. _"…Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my horrid face!"_

The echo of the mob mocking my saying "_Keep the hands at the level of your eyes" _pulled me out of my train of thought. I continued rowing my gondola, staring down at Christine's shivering body.

"_Hounded out by everyone, met with hatred everywhere, no kind words from anyone, no compassion anywhere…Christine, why! Why!"_

But Christine didn't answer me. She was still cowering like a small, helpless animal. When I docked my boat, I pulled her to her feet, not caring that my tug could have possibly dislocated her arm.

"_You are ugly, you are cruel, you can't tell me what to do!" _

Christine tried to pull away from me, and I reluctantly let her go, already preoccupied with tearing the wedding dress off of the doll it was dressed on. I was so furious that I took the blasted thing apart with a monstrous force, and threw her remains into my throne that was just inches away. With the white dress in hand, I turned back and forced it into her arms.

"_You will put this dress on now.." _I paused, looking down at the laced veil I had in my grasp. _"… and join me for our wedding vows!"_

"_Never!"_

"_Get dressed!"_

"_I'm not impressed!"_

"_Don't make me ask again!"_

"_I will never marry you!"_

"_You will do what I tell you to!"_

And with that, Christine slipped behind the curtain. She came out moments later, the white dress flowing at her feet, she looked like an angel, pure and white. I took a step back to have a full look at her, but that moment was cut short when she tried to make a run for it. She didn't get very far, for my hand came down over her wrist, and grabbed her, throwing her down on the floor.

"_Have you gorged yourself at last in your lust for blood?"_

I spun around to meet her, but still continued fumbling with the laced veil in my clammy hands.

"_Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh!"_

Oh, how dare she! Did she think I would actually do such a thing? Is that all she thought about? There was more to this marriage than wanting the joys of the flesh. I didn't care if I ever felt such a thing, as long as Christine was here with me, I would be happy with just that.

"_That fate, which condemns me to wallow in blood, has also denied me, the joys of the flesh."_

I pointed to my face, only to have her turn away in disgust. Just the mere sight of it churned my stomach.

"_This face, the infection which poisons our love…..This face, which earned, a mother's fear and loathing, a mask, my first, unfeeling scrap of clothing."_

I placed the veil on her head with a violent force, and began fluffing it into place. Her dress was a wrinkled mess as well, and I stood there angry, and taking the liberty in making her look absolutely perfect, smoothing out each wrinkle to my satisfaction.

"_Pity comes too late, turn around and face your fate! An eternity of this, before your eyes…"_

Christine tore the veil off her head, letting it hit the dirty floor of my lair.

"_It's in your soul that the true distortion lies."_

The lair fell painfully silent, and I picked up the veil, twisting in within my fingers.

"No, Christine." I growled. "The only thing distorted here, is your vision."

Footsteps! Why were there footsteps coming towards my lair? The boy! It was him! It had to be him! I spun around towards the bars of my lair, the same bars that kept me locked away in this cold prison.

"_Wait, I think my dear, we have a guest…."_

It was him! He was peeking through the bars, already searching for a way in-Oh, monsieur, I am the only way in.

"_Raoul!"_

It broke my heart the moment Christine ran over to Raoul and embraced him through the bars. Damn her! My anger was never something I could hold back and I was not going to stand for this! Not even for Christine's sake.

"_Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight. I had rather hoped that you would come, and now my wish comes true, you have truly made my night."_

"_Free her! Do what you like only free her, have you no pity?"_

I pulled Christine away from his weak grasp.

"_Oh, Christine, your lover makes a passionate plea."_

"_Please, Raoul, it's useless."_

"_I love her! Does that mean nothing!"_ the boy screamed out. _"I love her, have some compassion!"_

"_The world showed no compassion to me!"_

"_Christine -Christine, let me see her!"_

I raised my hands and let the bars slowly rise.

"_Be my guest, sir."_

That boy ran into Christine's arms. They were embracing one another! She never embraced me! Why should I let her continue doing this? No, I couldn't, I wouldn't!

"_Monsieur, I bid you welcome, did you think that I would harm her? Why should I make her pay for the sins which are yours!"_

I had the noose in my grasp, but before I could wrap it around the boy's fragile neck, Christine was on her knees, her fists raised, pleading me to let them both go.

"Angel, please, I beg of you…."

Beg? She never begged me for anything before.

"You try my patience!" I snapped. "That's all you ever do! No kind words, no compassion for me; the one who gave you every moment he had in teaching you how to sing! If not for me, you wouldn't even be engaged to that boy! He would have never noticed you if you weren't the rising star that you are!"

"That's not true!" Raoul spat.

"Angel, I-"

"It's true! I loved you when you were nothing! I loved you when you were still learning how to make your way in life as a ballerina!"

I threw the lasso aside, and dropped to my knees, cradling myself with my own arms.

"You would rape me." Christine shuddered. "That's what this forced marriage is all about."

My eyes were hot and red with tears. How could she think that?

"The only thing I would rape you with, my dear," I shuddered. "Is my music."

Christine gasped, and slowly stood to her feet-an attempt in running away again, no doubt.

"Am I really that horrible to be with?" I cried. "Kind words, and kindness is all I ever wished for. To embrace someone, perhaps even kiss them on the forehead…..There is no pain greater in this world than losing you-"

My body grew hot with anger once again. I was growing soft! No, the Phantom does not grow soft, he takes control! And by God, I would do just that! I took the lasso in hand once again, and wrapped it around the fop's neck!

"_Order your fine horses now, raise up the hand at the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now, except perhaps, Christine!"_

I was at Christine's horrified body now, pulling her to her feet, throwing her around like a rag doll.

"_Start a new life with me! Buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me and you send your lover to his death, this is the choice! This is the point of no return!"_

Christine broke away from me, slapping me so hard in my deformity that it drew a little blood.

"_The tears I might have shed for your dark fate, grow cold and turn to tears of hate!"_

"_So do you end your days with me, or do you send him to his grave!"_

"_Why make her lie to you to save me!"_ Raoul shouted.

"_You've passed the point of no return."_

"_You've deceived me, I gave my mind blindly."_

"_Make your choice Christine! I grow weary of this game!"_

I turned my back like a selfish child, my heart continuing to break as this game continued.

"_Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone-"_

Suddenly, I felt myself being forced to turn, only to come face to face with Christine's embrace. She was hugging me! Her arms wrapped themselves around my body, lightly squeezing my own, giving me a pleasurable high I had never felt before. My heart was pounding against my chest as this feeling continued. I closed my eyes, letting the deformity of my face brush against the soft curls of her hair. When we broke away, hot tears were pouring down my cheeks. Christine smiled at me-God! She smiled at me, she never smiled in my presence, in front of this disgusting face. I stumbled over to Raoul who was still caught in my noose. I could no longer do this, I knew what needed to be done. I needed to let my caged bird free to live her life the way she wanted. I reached both arms up above Raoul's body, my hands trembling as they untied the noose.

"Do you know what's going to hurt worse than losing Christine?" I heard Raoul ask.

Finally, I dared to look down at him just as the last knot was coming lose. He was being cruel, and I had the power to take away his life, but I could no longer do it. Instead, I ignored his statement and continued letting him loose, but this was a quarrel he wasn't going to let slip away.

"This!" was all I heard him shout, before pulling a large blade out of his back pocket and plunging it deep into my left side, the section right below my ribcage. The pain was shocking, and it started out dull in my chest, before roaming throughout my body and coming back to my chest with an agonizing jolt. Raoul pulled me close, so close that I could feel his breath on my face.

"How does it feel?"

But I couldn't speak. I tried to speak, but I couldn't, and at this point, Raoul pushed me to the ground, the blade still deep within my chest. What hurt even ten times worse was when I landed on my chest, causing the blade to sink even deeper within me.

"Angel!" I heard my Christine scream for me, but everything was going black. I lay there on the ice cold floor, in a puddle of my own blood. I couldn't breathe, I could hardly find the strength to do so.

Christine was at my side, rolling me over onto my back, her hand closing around the handle that was sticking out of my chest.

"Ch-Chris…."

"Shh….Relax. Take some deep breaths, angel, and relax."

But I couldn't, the mob was getting closer and closer. I could hear them coming through the pass now, it would only be a matter of minutes before they arrived.

"Christine, come, we must go!"

Raoul pulled Christine away from my side, causing my body to fall limp to the ground. She had been holding on to me, if only for a few seconds, my Christine had held onto my body.

"Raoul-stop! Stop, please! He needs help!"

"Let him die!"

I heard no more of Christine, only the echoing of the mob getting closer and closer. As I laid there, I tasted the rusty flavor of blood in the back of my throat. It was as if I were drowning in my own blood. I heard the footsteps splashing into the water, making it obvious that the mob was here. I knew if I continued laying here, I would only die. I gathered up all the strength I had within my body, and began crawling across the floor like an infant, using my hands to pull on my furniture to keep my body moving. The pain was terrible, more terrible than any pain I had ever felt, a trail of blood staining the floor as I continued crawling along.

"I think I see him!" came a strange voice.

"Yes, he's on the floor!" came another.

Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind, and rolled over onto my back, blunt objects already making contact with my fragile body with violent force. I heard bones crack, saw my blood splattering everywhere. Someone even tore out the knife that was lodged in my chest.

"This is for Piange!" one screamed out before hitting me over the head with a heavy stick.

"This is for every soul your hideous self threatened!"

Now fire had been brought into the situation, lit torches were being forced against my thighs, my arms, my face! Scorching hot fire, melting my flesh, causing more pain than I had ever felt before. And then, the lit torch was dropped, and so was my body. I don't know how it happened, but my face landed up against the flames, the heat scorching my eyes….and then everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Erik's POV**

Everything was dark, and all I could feel was pain. I had felt pain my entire life, pain from a mask my mother had made me rubbing my flesh away, pain from the end of a whip being cracked against my back, pain of a horrible master sexually abusing me, pain from seeing the only woman I ever loved loving another man-but this pain, this agonizing hell I was in now, couldn't be compared to anything I had ever felt before. For the life of me, I couldn't remember how I had gotten this way, but when I came to, I thought to be in hell. My chest was burning, my feet ached, my head was pounding, and I couldn't seem to breathe normally. Yes, this had to be hell. But beneath the palm of my hand, I felt the velvet of soft blankets. If this were hell, there would be no blankets, and nothing soft to support my broken body.

Over my eyes I could feel something wet, something lukewarm and wet. Curious, I lifted my trembling hand and brushed my fingers along the wet cloth that was over my eyes. What ever the cloth was soaked in was dripping against my eyes and burning it. Carefully, I pulled it away, hoping to shed some light on the situation, but still, everything was dark. My hands began wandering around my body, feeling every part of me to try and remember what had happened. I was beneath a bunch of blankets, wearing no shirt by the feeling of my fingers brushing over the familiar scars covering my body. When my fingers brushed over something rough, just below my ribcage, I paused, instantly remembering the pain I had felt when Raoul jabbed his knife deep into my body. The roughness must have been from a bandage-but who helped me?

I couldn't stay in the darkness any longer. I needed to see my body, I needed to see where I was. Sitting up was the most painful thing to do, and I felt my legs crack upon movement. There were pillows placed behind me, and my hands wandered to the side of what ever I was laying on, trying to strike any familiarity. Cold brass met with my hands, and I traced my fingers along its length. I knew this thing-it was my bed! Yes, my bed! And on my night table I always kept a candle there along with a few matches. My hands frantically felt around until I found my night table, my palm roaming up the thick length of the waxy texture of my candle, while my other searched for the matches.

My fingers found the small, toothpick sized matches and I flicked the top with my fingers, hearing the flame coming alive. But I couldn't see it. I could smell the smoke, feel the heat, but I could not see the flame. I moved the match closer to my face, feeling the heat getting unbearable against my flesh, but I could not see anything. It was then that I felt a burning sensation on my fingers that were holding the match, causing me to drop it and cry out from the sting I had felt.

"Angel-don't!"

I heard a voice, a familiar voice-Christine! I heard footsteps approaching me, I could even smell the familiar fragrance of roses. Christine was the only one who ever smelled like that.

"You could have burned yourself."

Why was she here? Why was Christine here with me? I felt her soft hands pushing me back against my pillows, but it was still dark.

"Ch-Christine?"

"Yes, I'm here with you.'

I laid there on my back, relaxing and trying to concentrate on breathing.

"I couldn't leave, angel." she confessed. "I came back and found you nearly on deaths door. I-I called a doctor, one that Madame Giry suggested. He came down and fixed you up."

"Christine, the lights-please, turn them on."

"Angel-the lights…..they are on."

My heart stopped within my chest. Had I been blinded?

"The doctor said you've punctured your left lung, and that-that you've lost your sight."

I was blind-was I blind forevermore? Would I never lay eyes upon my music or Christine ever again? Was I to live out the remainder of my days in darkness? Alone, and in the dark?

"Fo-Forever?"

"He doesn't know." Christine shuddered. "He said you need your rest, and a lot of help."

"Paris-the mob-"

"They think you're dead. When I found you there was hardly a breath left in your body. We'll stay here until everything calms down, and then I'll find you other arrangements."

"Go home!" I cried. "That's what you wanted, wasn't it? I will not be pitied!"

"I came because I wanted to come. Raoul could have killed you, and he knew how much I cherished my angel. It was selfish of him to do that, and I had to come back and help you."

I felt the wet cloth being placed over my eyes again, and the blankets being tucked back around my body.

"Rest, now, angel."

I didn't say another word, mostly because I couldn't. I was out of breath, and speaking would only make matters worse. There was silence again, silence that disturbed me. I lay there in darkness, only to close my eyes and see more darkness. Why bother sleeping? I would only be met with darkness there too.

I awoke to darkness again, when I felt something being dabbed across the sockets of my eyes ever so tenderly.

"Are you awake?" I heard Christine softly ask.

"Yes." I groaned.

"Good, because it's hard to tell if you are or not. Your eyes-they're so-"

"They're what?" I asked. "Tell me what they look like-I cannot see them for myself."

"They aren't focusing on anything. They're just staring ahead."

"Do they look strange or deformed?"

"No, still the same mismatched tones of blue. Just a little blood shot."

My breath caught in my throat. She knew what my eyes looked like? She knew their exact tones? Had she been paying attention to me that closely over the years?

"How do you know they look the same?"

"I know what your eyes looked like. They always fascinated me-their shade. I've never seen eyes that could be two tones of blue before."

"Hideous, right?"

"No, beautiful."

My heart was pounding against my chest. This was the first thing anyone had ever said to me-the first kind thing. Beautiful? Nothing about me was ever put that way before.

"Tilt your head back." I heard her say, her hand gently guiding my chin up. "Keep your eyes open, I'm going to give you the drops the doctor told me to give you."

"Drops?"

"Yes, he said it will help."

I felt Christine's soft hands place themselves around my head, cradling me as she gently administered the cold drops of liquid into each eye.

"Anything?" I heard her ask.

"No, everything is still dark."

"Why don't you relax for a while and I'll make something for dinner."

"Dinner?" I had lost all track of time. I didn't know the time, but it sure didn't feel like the evening. Perhaps it was because I had slept for so long. What day was it? What time was it? I was going absolutely mad.

"Yes." I felt her lift her body from my bed. "It's nearly five in the evening."

"What day is it? What is the date?"

My voice was frantic. I couldn't help but have it that way. I had not been frightened in many years, but not knowing the time or date made me feel lost.

"It is the 14th day of March- Saturday evening."

"Would you grant me a favor, Christine?"

"What?"

"As long as you're here, with me, would you remind me of the day? Remind me of the day's date?"

"If you wish."

And with that, I heard her walking away. My body was in so much pain, my legs were pounding with agony, and my chest felt as though I had a ton of bricks laying on it. Death would have been more pleasant than laying here now without my sight. At one point, I felt the urge to relieve myself. My bladder was full, and I tried holding it as long as possible, not wanting to call Christine back from the kitchen. Instead, I held it. How embarrassing it would be to tell Christine that I needed to go to the bathroom. No, I couldn't embarrass myself. Instead, I laid there for a while longer, until I felt an uncomfortable pressure from within me. I knew if I tried holding it any longer I would piss myself, and that would be more embarrassing than asking Christine to assist me. No, I was a stubborn man, and so I decided to do this on my own.

In my mind, I attempted to picture where my bathroom was within my lair. It was right past my organ to the right-hand side. I could picture it in my mind from memory, but I knew finding it was going to be harder than I first thought. After throwing the blankets back, I placed my bare feet down on the cold, stone floor. I felt around for anything to grab onto to support me when I stood up, but found nothing. It was a struggle to stand, but once I was on my feet, I slowly took my first few steps, being slow and careful incase there came a point where there was no more floor to step on. I walked on, my hands outstretched in hopes of making contact with my organ, but there was nothing! It felt as though I had been walking forever-where was my organ?

It was then that my knees hit something, causing me to tumble over what ever was in front of me and hit the floor. There was a loud bang, and I rolled over onto my back, my chest aching worse than before. But everything was still black, and as my hands felt around for the item I had tripped over, I felt the hard wood surface of what seemed to be my organ bench.

"Angel!"

I heard my name being called, and the footsteps of Christine running towards me.

"What are you doing out of bed? You could have seriously hurt yourself-are you all right?"

I felt her cold hands lift me up to my unstable feet, and heard the legs of my bench moving across the floor. I had a bad habit of always leaving my bench pulled out. I never put any consideration into pushing it under the organ when I was finished and now I was paying for it.

"Let's get you back into bed."

I felt her leading me away, but I pulled from her grasp. How I hated being treated like a child!

"I have to relieve the piss from my body, woman!"

My voice echoed throughout my home, and then Christine's frightened shudder.

"All right." she paused. "That's all you had to say."

Her deathly cold hands turned me around, and began leading me towards the bathroom. Once inside, her hands moved to my trousers but I'd be damned to let her help me do this! I was hideous below the waist, and to let her see any part of me would only embarrass me. It would be even worse because I wouldn't be able to see her facial expression upon seeing my scarred body in such a way. No, I would never allow her to see me like this.

"Stop!" my hand flew to hers. "I can do this myself, I want privacy."

"Are you sure? It be much easier for me to help."

"No-Please, Christine, at least give me my dignity." I snapped.

Her hands moved to my shoulders, and positioned me in front of what I believed was the toilet.

"You're right in front of the toilet." she stated. "I'll be outside if you need me."

When I heard the door close, I reached into my sleep trousers and felt around until I grabbed hold of my member. After pulling it out of my sleep trousers, I felt around with my other hand, trying to position myself near the opening of the toilet. It was harder blind than when I had my sight. Even when I thought I was in, I still wasn't, causing myself to piss on my trousers.

"Merde!" I cursed as I felt the hot liquid burning into the fabric of my trousers.

"Are you all right in there?" I heard Christine concerned voice, and then the door opening. I quickly fixed myself, and tried to calm my temper before answering her.

"You wet yourself." I heard her gasp. "And got it all over the seat of the toilet."

I felt horrible. I felt embarrassed and completely horrible. It brought back memories of how I used to wet myself out of nervousness when I was a child. When my mother used to yell at me for no reason, I used to look down and find that I had wet my trousers. It was a nervous condition because of how frightened I was of my mother. That same feeling of embarrassment was coming back to me now, the embarrassment of being in such a situation in front of someone….in this case, someone I loved.

"Oh, Christine, I'm so ashamed."

"Don't be. It's all right, come, I'll get you cleaned up."

I felt her cold hands against my shoulders again. It was not good for her to be down here with me. She had a warm body, and because of such a long stay with me, it was turning her like ice.

"You should go." I suggested. "Back up to the real world. Your hands are like ice."

"What? And leave you down here by yourself? No, I won't do it. I refuse."

Once I was sat back down on my mattress, I heard her rummaging through my wardrobe closet.

"Here," she placed what I assumed to be a new pair of trousers into my hands. "You change and I'll go clean up the bathroom."

Changing was much easier sitting down than it was standing up. I easily maneuvered my soiled trousers down my legs and off before sliding the new ones up my legs and over my bottom. A few moments later, Christine retuned, only to hear her innocently giggling.

"What? What's so funny?" I angrily barked.

"Your trousers-they're on backwards."

I did not find this funny, not one bit did I find funny.

"I'm glad you're getting amusement from my blindness! I'm glad somebody thinks it's funny!"

"Angel-I-"

"No! Now get the hell out of here!"

I knew my anger always frightened her. Christine left, giving me the chance to correct my backwards trousers and lay back in bed. Where was I going to be left now? I was blind, and incapable of even going to the bathroom on my own. How was I to ever live by myself? The very thought gave me a terrible headache, so I stopped thinking about it. A while later, I began smelling the wonderful scent of baking chicken coming from my kitchen. I hardly ever used my kitchen due to the fact that I hardly ate, but tonight, tonight was completely different. Christine was cooking for me! Never had anyone cooked for me before.

"I have dinner." I heard Christine approaching me, the smell of that same chicken only getting closer and closer. She must have been carrying it on a plate.

I closed my eyes, and pressed my head deeper into my pillow.

"You can just leave it on my night table." I groaned.

"Nonsense, it will get cold, and you could make a mess of yourself."

How my blood was boiling! But she was right. Christine was being kind and the less mess she had to clean up, the better.

"Maybe just a little, then." I murmured.

I felt her hands gently caress the back of my head, as she began feeding me bits of the baked chicken. I was being fed! By Christine! Without my mask! I slowly chewed my meal, swallowing and taking long sips on the glass of water she continued holding to my lips after each forkful of food.

"Does my face not bother you?" I questioned after a while.

"No, not anymore."

"If it disgusts you, I could understand. You probably cringe, and yet, I cannot see you doing it."

"Never- though, I would like to know your name."

"My name?" I questioned. No one has ever called me by Erik, by my real name before.

"Yes, if I'm going to be taking care of you for a while, I would at least like to call you by your name and not by "Angel."

"It's Erik."

"Erik." Christine tasted it on her tongue, the mere sound of it sending my soul flying.

"Did you eat?" I questioned.

"No, I wanted to feed you first."

My poor Christine, feeding me before herself. I could have eaten two more helpings of her delicious meal, but I didn't want to hold her up any longer.

"I'm full, thank you." I said. "It was delicious."

"You're quite welcome. Would you like me to sing to you for a while? Perhaps read you a story until you grow tired?"

Oh, how wonderful that sounded, but I couldn't be selfish. I was just lucky to have her here. It wouldn't be right for me to request anything more of her.

"No, that's very kind of you but-" I paused. "I'm very tired- I think I'm going to rest."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, my pain is giving me a lot of discomfort."

But like the angel Christine was, she didn't just leave me. No, she propped up my pillows, even placed a few beneath my legs. Oh, how comfortable she made me feel.

"Goodnight, Erik, sleep well. If there's anything you need, please call me. I'll be out in the other room."

And then she left me. In light or darkness, I wasn't sure, everything was still dark. But that night, as I fell asleep, I felt safe in knowing somebody else was here with me, Christine was here; my protective angel.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! I probably won't update again until my Cloaked Under the Night Story is complete. Won't be too long now. <strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Erik's POV**

It was too much, everything was too much for me to handle. The constant darkness was driving me mad! I was only on my first night being blind and already I was at the brink of going mad. Whether I had my eyes closed or open, my world was always dark. I couldn't sleep, nor could I lay there any longer without my mind racing. I didn't know what time it was, nor could I find out for myself. In my grasp, I was able to feel the cold metal of my pocket watch, its linked chain, even hear it ticking away, but I couldn't see it, nor could I see the time.

I wasn't sure what time of the night I came up with the idea to end it all, but I realized that I couldn't live like this. I couldn't go through life living in darkness, and I wasn't about to let myself do so. My hands wandered around until they reached my night table, and I held onto it as I lifted my aching body to my feet. I felt around, moving my hands over every ounce of furniture I had within my room until I reached my vanity. Nimble fingers brushed over the bristles of my comb, the smooth bottle of my cologne, until I eventually found what I had been looking for; my sewing box. My fingers worked on the latch to get it open, never realizing how hard it was to do so bind. When I heard it finally click open, my fingers rummaged through the top box, pricking themselves on needles until they reached the smooth surface of the scissors I kept at the bottom.

Even if I couldn't see the contraption, I knew what job it could do. Frantically, with one free hand, I unbuttoned the buttons of my shirt, the palm of my hand feeling around the flat surface of my chest until I felt my heart thumping against it. From there, I replaced my palm with the sharp ends of the scissors. One hard thrust and my life would end. The scissors would pierce my heart, and then, my blindness would end. My hands trembled around the cold metal as I lifted the sharp points away from my chest, preparing to force them into my ribcage.

But before I could do it, my knees weakened and I fell to the floor, losing grasp of the scissors. I was too weak to get back up or find the scissors and eventually fell unconscious as my body screamed in agony.

"Erik?"

I heard my name being called, and smelled the scent of flowers, even felt the brushing of fingers against my forehead.

"Erik, answer me." she sounded extremely worried, and I managed to open my mouth but couldn't form the words.

"Erik, are you hurt?"

"No." I finally got the words out, and Christine helped me to my feet. Once I was in bed, my world began to spin around me. The blindness was driving me mad, and I still wanted to end my life. Would Christine really keep me alive against my will? No, she could see, and she could help me end it all.

"Christine?"

I could no longer feel her, but I knew she was still here beside me.

"Yes, Erik?"

"In the drawer…." I pointed my arm in the direction of my night table. I had almost forgot about the morphine I used for my pain. One dose too much and I would slip away to sleep, never waking again.

I heard the drawer open, and Christine's hand fumbling around.

"Erik? What is this?"

She must have found my rubber tourniquet and needle.

"Christine, it's morphine." I said. "I use it for pain. As you can probably tell, my exposed skull discomforts me."

"How much should I fill the needle with?"

"The whole vial."

There was a long pause, before Christine spoke again. I knew she sensed something terribly wrong….could it perhaps be that I wanted to die?

"Erik, I….I won't do that. Surely that would be lethal."

"Exactly." I said. "Just fill the needle and administer it right in the center of my chest."

"No," she gasped. "I won't kill you."

"Then give it to me, I'll do it myself! I don't want to live!"

"But why?" I could hint tears in her voice, but I wasn't sure.

"The darkness is driving me mad! I can't do a god damn thing!"

"Yes, Erik, I know this is all new for you, but it's no reason to kill yourself."

"Why not? I have no one in this world to help me forever more. I won't be able to live without help from now on."

"You have me, Erik. I'll teach you everything you need to know."

At that moment, I heard her close the drawer, taking away my only way out of this world.

"Erik, please promise me that you won't kill yourself? I won't ask for much from you, but if I'm going to be down here with you, I want you to promise me."

Damn her! How was I to lie to her? How was I to say no? She was here with me, and if she didn't want me to end my life, then who was I to end it?

"I…I promise."

"I know this all seems scary, Erik, but you won't be alone. I'll teach you everything. Just because you don't have your eyes, doesn't mean you can't live. You'll learn to use your other senses."

I didn't say a word. I knew this was going to be impossible. If I didn't have my sight, how could I live? Music was everything, and without my eyes, how was I to compose? How was I to play my organ?

"Do you want me to stay, until you fall asleep?" I heard her ask.

"Only if you wish to." I said, feeling my feet aching with every move I made.

"Sleep now, Erik."

I heard her standing, and felt her fluffing the blankets over my body.

"Are the lights on? Or off?" I asked.

"I left a few candles burning." she said. "Just incase I needed to come in quickly and help you."

"Goodnight, Christine."

And with that, she was gone. For a few more hours, I laid there completely awake, tossing and turning fitfully within my blankets. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn't. Perhaps a little morphine would have helped. Usually a small dose was enough to put me under for more than eight hours. I heard the ticking of my pocket watch, the dripping of water from the lake, felt the chilly breeze blowing in my room, and yet, I couldn't see a thing.

A little while later, I heard a strange sound coming towards my lair. I wasn't sure what it was, and rolled over to snuggle back into my blankets. Though, the sound was getting closer and closer, and soon I began hearing voices. It was the mob! It had to be the mob!

"Christine! Christine!" I called her name, hoping she would appear, but she didn't answer me, and I didn't smell her scent.

"Christine! Christine, please, answer me!"

When I didn't get a response, I immediately stood out of bed, tripping and landing on my chest. I groaned in pain, as I crawled across the floor, feeling around for anything to grab hold of. Though, when I found the leg of a table, I grasped hold of it, causing a loud wobbling noise to occur. I wondered what was going on, but a few seconds later, the wobbling stopped and a heavy object hit me in the back of the skull.

When I awoke, I felt hands caressing my back. I groaned, and felt the cold floor beneath my face.

"Erik? Oh, Erik, look at you."

Christine was here beside me. But what about the voices? What about the mob?

"Your head…it's bleeding."

I felt Christine help me up, and maneuver me to my bed.

"Christine, there were voices…."

"Yes, there were a few men scrounging around for brass. They didn't come anywhere near the house though."

My head was pounding, and I felt Christine dab it with a damp cloth.

"Does it hurt?"

"Extremely."

"Erik, I know you don't want to hear this, but I don't think we're safe here anymore. Now that the opera house is down from the fire, I think we'll be getting more and more people coming down to search for brass and what ever they can sell at the market."

"And where do you suppose we go?" I growled. "This was my life. I've been here for over twenty five years. I know nothing of the outside world, Christine."

"I understand, Erik, but believe me when I say that we'll be perfectly fine. I have a few places we could stay. It will be much safer than staying here."

"No, we should stay here."

"Erik, what if someone came down here and saw me? What if they try to take advantage of me? You won't be able to protect me, nor will I be able to protect you."

Christine was right. I was helpless against any thug. Plus, if anything ever happened to Christine, I would never forgive myself. I thought I was going to die here in this very opera house, but it seemed as though God had a very different plan.

"All right." I said. "But only because I can't protect you."

"We'll leave tomorrow then."

"I can barely walk, Christine. How am I going to travel?"

"It's not far, Erik."

For a while more, I laid there feeling Christine dabbing the damp cloth against my head. I fell asleep, only waking when I heard Christine rummaging around my bedchamber. I groaned, my head pounding and causing me the worst agony ever. My whole body ached, and I wanted nothing more than for Christine's hands to massage every inch of my body.

"Erik? Is there anything you want me to pack?"

Was there? I couldn't think for myself. Yes, if I could see, I'm sure there would be plenty of things I would want packed, but since I was blind, I could only come up with a few personal items I kept near and dear to my heart.

"My monkey music box." I said. "And my Don Juan triumphant script."

"I packed your eye drops and your morphine."

"My waist coat?"

"Um…." I guessed she was currently checking. "Yes, I did."

A few moments later, I felt her helping me up.

"Let's get you dressed, Erik."

I felt her unbuttoning my nightshirt, and placing on a new one.

"What color?" I curiously asked.

"White. I know how much you love wearing white shirts." I felt something being placed over my shirt.

"Your black vest." I heard her reply.

"My coat, please…."

Christine placed my arms through the sleeves, and buttoned it for me before going for my sleep trousers. I felt her pulling them gently down each leg….can you imagine that? Christine pulling down my trousers. Just the feeling of it happening made my spirit soar.

"Your legs!" I heard her gasp. "They're covered in scars."

Indeed, they were. My whole body was from years of abuse. I was just glad I couldn't see the disgusted look that was probably on her beautiful face.

"Yes, hideous, I know."

She didn't say another word, and I felt her placing a pair of trousers on me.

"I'll tie your shoes."

She slipped my boots onto each correct foot, my feet screaming in agony the moment they became trapped within the confinements of the uncomfortable contraptions. I ached in discomfort, and Christine instantly stopped tying them.

"Are you all right?"

"No, my feet are causing me pain."

Christine helped me up, and I heard a crack occur in my legs.

"Come, Erik, I'll help you get to our destination quickly."

Christine strapped a bag over my shoulder, and let me out of the opera house. The bag over my shoulder was heavy, but I didn't complain. I was hurting, and tired, but most of all, I was scared. Walking blindly with Christine being my only sight frightened me more than anything in the world.

"Step up, Erik." I obeyed her every command, stepping up when needed, stumbling and tripping over myself in the process. But Christine was always there to catch hold of me before I could fall. I wasn't sure where we were in the opera house, when I began hearing voices again; angry voices!

Christine ducked me down, but that didn't stop the approaching people from spotting us.

"Ah, there they are!" came an angry growl.

I could sense the presence of other people surrounding us. I could feel their warmth, smell the alcohol on their breaths, even sense that they weren't here for a friendly conversation.

"Stop, please." Christine begged.

Were they touching her? I held out my arms and tried to find her. No one would harm her if I had my arms wrapped protectively around her body.

"Christine?" I questioned her name as my arms met with rough fabric and chubby arms. No, this wasn't Christine. Who ever I had touched laughed, and shoved me, causing my body to make contact with the cold pavement. I groaned, as my head bumped into the stone. I rolled over onto my back, feeling the tips of boots making violent contact with my sides.

"Stop! Stop!" I heard my angel's voice, but I couldn't see her. "He's blind! Stop this!"

And then she screamed! Screamed as if someone was grabbing onto her.

"We were paid to end this one's life and bring you out of here!" one stated.

I heard my angel struggling, grunting and trying to force her way out our assailant's grasp. I couldn't just lay here and let this go on. No, I had to help her. Quickly, I tried to scurry to my feet, only to be pushed back down.

"He's blinder than a bat!"

Oh, how embarrassing this was. Before, no one could stop me and now…..now I was a helpless infant.

"Whack his legs!"

I felt something come down hard on my left ankle, causing me to fall back down. I couldn't give up! I couldn't let my angel be harmed.

"Christine!" I called out her name again, grasping my chest in agony. It was bad enough that my lung was punctured, now, being able to breathe was even harder.

"Erik!"

Oh, she was still here! My angel was still here.

"All right, enough teasing, end his life." I heard one of them order.

This was my last chance. I couldn't continue wasting time on falling down. I stood to my feet again, my ankle throbbing with a burning pain. I swung my arms around, hoping to hit something. But that did absolutely nothing. For with in seconds, I felt a stabbing sensation enter my backside. I gasped, and felt cold metal entering my body.

"No!" Christine's screams echoed throughout the opera house, as I stood there in shock. I had been stabbed in the back.

I opened my mouth to try and speak, but nothing came out. The men must have noticed that I was still alive, because the one holding the knife in my back shoved it in deeper. I knew if I was going to save Christine, I had to play their game. They wanted me dead, and yes, I was probably headed that way, but Christine didn't need to see this any longer. I closed my eyes, and went limp in the man's arms. The knife was instantly pulled out of my back, and it took every ounce within me not to grunt. It hurt like hell when my body fell to the floor, but I stayed still, trying to look as dead as possible.

"Let me go! You killed him!" my angel was screaming, and to my luck, they must have let her go.

"Come on, our job is done here."

I felt Christine scoot over to my body, sobbing and crying over me. I waited a few moments, in order to make sure the men were truly gone, before groaning.

"Erik?"

I gasped for air, and laid there lifelessly. I couldn't move my body. It was impossible. Everything hurt, even breathing was taking its toll on me.

"Erik, say something."

"I…." that was all I could muster.

Her deathly cold hands placed themselves over my body, comforting me through every breath. I thought she had left me when I no longer felt her hands, but she returned a few moments later, draping me with what I believed to be was my hooded cloak.

"No one can see you…..God, you're bleeding heavily."

As much as it hurt me to stand, she forced me to do so. From outside the cloak, she placed her hand in the exact spot I had been stabbed in, applying pressure to my bleeding.

"Walk, Erik." she begged. "We have to get you out of here."

I did. It took every ounce within me to do it, but I walked with her. I gasped and fought to breathe as we entered the cold night of Paris. I tried to stop and lean against her every few seconds, but she encouraged me to keep going. It felt as if I walked for hours, but as my injury became lethal, my walking ceased. I collapsed, no longer able to walk or breathe. I collapsed to the ground, and in complete darkness. And as I stopped breathing, Christine's voice faded into the background. Perhaps I was finally dead and on my way to hell.

* * *

><p><strong>I know I said I wasn't going to update until the end of Cloaked under the Night, but you know how I am...Cliff hangers drive me mad too. Please review!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Erik's POV**

When I awoke, everything was dark and I couldn't breathe. I could tell that I was laying on top of something hard, yet soft by the blankets beneath me. There were strands hands touching me, old, wrinkled hands. My breathing intensified, and I grabbed the hands.

"Christine!" I breathlessly gasped her name, hoping she was here with me.

"Monsieur, calm down." I didn't know this voice. Who was this strange voice of a man?

My back ached, and my head was throbbing. I could feel something in my wound, something uncomfortable….a tube perhaps? What ever it was, it was causing me more discomfort than anything I had ever felt.

"Monsieur, stay calm!"

But I couldn't! I wouldn't! I hated the world, I hated strangers! All they ever did was laugh at me or treat me like an animal. No, there were only two people I trusted in this world, Christine and Madame Giry. This man, this horrible, strange man was pushing me down against what ever I was laying on, causing me to only fight harder.

"You're going to hurt yourself!" he warned, but I wasn't listening. For all I knew this man could be trying to hurt me. He could have Christine locked up somewhere, tied and bound to a bedpost.

"Angel!" I heard Christine's voice. She was so near.

"Christine?" I called her name again, my breath gasping for air as I called it.

"Shh…I'm here, Erik."

Her hand made contact with my sweaty cheek, causing me to release the man that I had a firm grip on. I was exhausted, and out of breath. I didn't know where we were, but as the room silenced, I could hear the pitter patter of rain against a nearby window. Though, as Christine's hand lingered on my cheek, I felt the man's hands touching my side again and then, eventually, my back. I groaned as I felt a horrible sting, but Christine was there to coax me into staying still.

"We're at a safe place, Erik." she assured. "Remember the doctor that Madame Giry referred me to when I found you a few nights ago? We're at his facility now."

A doctor? No, we couldn't be here. What if he was the one who told those men to come and kill me? I am, after all, a wanted criminal.

How badly I wanted to protest, but I was so exhausted. I could feel something prick my arm. Perhaps a needle? Warmth filled my bloodstream and it began to make me feel extremely drowsy. I gave into the sweet poison, closing my eyes and falling into the deep slumber my body ached for.

My heart was pounding against my ears as I slept through a fitful sleep. When I came to, everything was dark as usual, but I could feel someone massaging my sore ankle. It was soft fingers brushing against my flesh, kneading the soreness away. I groaned, and squeezed the sheets as her fingers worked on me. No one ever massaged my ankle before. No one ever massaged any part of me. But Christine, my angel, she was touching me as if I were any other man, as if I were Raoul. My legs were scarred, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Christine?" I called her name in reassurance, causing her to stop.

"Erik? Am I hurting you?"

"No," I gasped. "It feels breathtaking."

"Good." was all she said before going back to massaging my ankle.

"You don't have to do this." I said. "I'm sure my hideous flesh is making you feel disgusted."

"Don't be silly, Erik. Though, you have so much tension in your ankles. When's the last time you had someone massage them?"

"Never." I pathetically confessed.

"Never? Really? Who was there to rub your sore limbs when you weren't feeling well?"

"No one. I've been alone my whole life."

Christine gasped. "You poor man."

"Please, don't pity me."

"I don't, Erik. I just feel for you."

Christine felt for me? That would be a first. Usually, she just ignored my feelings. Was it possible for her to change? To actually feel for me? Perhaps even love me? Who was I kidding? She was engaged to marry Raoul! That perfectly handsome fop!

"We can't stay here." I groaned. "It's not safe."

"Yes, it is."

Christine wasn't listening to me. She wasn't listening to a single thing I was saying. I tried to rise from where I was laying, but Christine pushed me back down.

"Erik, you need to stay put!"

"We need to leave here! How do we know the doctor didn't rat me out? We're not safe with anyone."

"Yes we are, Erik. You need to relax. That's the most important thing right now."

"No, Christine, the most important thing is to get out of here."

"Your ankle is sprained, Erik. You are to stay in bed until it's healed. We're stuck here until you can walk."

"And then where? Back to the opera house?"

"No, I have a plan, Erik, but right now we need to stay here."

"I don't trust him, Christine."

My heart was pounding against my chest. I was frightened, and blind.

"Christine, don't leave me. Can you promise that you'll stay in here with me?"

"Of course. The room we're in has an extra bed right across from the one you're laying in. Just promise me you'll trust the doctor, Erik. He's only here to help you."

"As long as you're here with me."

"How are we feeling?" I heard footsteps entering the room, and that familiar voice again.

"He's awake." Christine said. "He's feeling a lot of discomfort."

I heard the doctor fumbling around with some sort of metal utensils. How I hated being probed and picked at.

"Monsieur, you're going to feel a pinch in your forearm." I heard the man say.

"What?" my voice trembled, and I hid my arms from his sight.

"You need to be bled." he stated. "To prevent inflammation to your wound."

I felt his hand place itself on my right arm, causing me to yank away. But did the doctor give up? Of course not. Well if it was a fight he wanted-

"Now, stay still." he warned. "Do you want to get an infection?"

"Leave me alone! I refuse!"

"Erik-"

I felt Christine trying to hold me down, something that angered me greatly. Just whose side was she on?

"Christine, please!" I was begging her to release me, to help me.

"Erik, this is for your own good."

I was fighting, throwing my arms about and tossing my body about the bed. I wasn't going to allow this doctor to cut me open and bleed me. My back was throbbing and my ankle screaming to be still. All of a sudden, I felt some sort of cloth placed over my nose and mouth. I fought to release it from me, but it instantly caused me to pass out.

I rolled over some time later, my arm throbbing and stinging. Had I been bled? I felt weak, and I was freezing. Why was I so cold?

"Erik?"

It was obvious that Christine was beside me, but I wasn't speaking with her. How dare she take the doctor's side? Who was she to make decisions for me?

"Erik, please speak to me."

But I didn't. I just rolled over, and pressed a kiss to my sore arm.

"Erik, it needed to be done."

"How do you know?" I snapped. "Just because I'm blind doesn't mean you have the right to make decisions for me."

"Bloodletting prevents infections, Erik."

I was shivering now beneath the thin blanket. The bloodletting had caused a fever to break out, one that had me shivering.

"Here," I felt another blanket being covered over my body. I felt much better now.

I let my fingers intertwine with the patched up fabric.

"It was my father's." Christine replied. "My mother made it for him a long time ago. He would often wrap it around me when ever I was ill. It made me feel better."

Oh, to think that Christine was letting me experience the warmth of a passed down blanket. It belonged to her father, and yet, she was letting me use it.

"What does it look like?" I asked.

"Well," Christine paused. "There's two blue blocks, one red, three pink, two green and five black. My mother made it from a few old blankets and curtains."

"It's very warm."

"Yes, my favorite."

I closed my eyes, and tried to relax, but my mind was too concerned about my safety. And yet, I couldn't help but still be angry with Christine.

"It's nearly dinner time." she said. "How about I clean you up?"

I groaned, and noticed that I did smell a bit foul.

"It might make you feel better."

It was obvious that she was waiting for a response. Though, the thought of Christine staring down at my naked body made me nervous beyond anything. My body was scarred and completely hideous, more hideous than my face.

"Christine, no-" I paused, trying to think of what to say. "If you just give me the wash cloth, I'll be able to do it myself."

"Not all of you." she kindly argued. "You won't be able to wash past your chest."

"I'll be all right."

"Would you rather me call the doctor in?"

No, that would be a horrible mistake. If there was anyone I didn't want touching my body, it was him. He's done enough damage already.

"Is that a no?"

"I've….I've never exposed my body to a woman before." I stuttered. "It would be embarrassing to have you stare at it. I'm completely hideous, Christine."

"You shouldn't think like that, Erik. Besides, the scars aren't your fault."

I felt her hand moving to the blankets to pull them back. I shivered as the cool air within the room made contact with my chest.

"It's all right, Erik." Christine assured. "This will only take a few minutes. It might even help with your fever."

I heard the slight splashing of water, before I felt the warm sensation of it rubbing against my scarred flesh. She was gentle with me, taking extra precaution with each limb that she washed under. Just feeling her hands against my bare flesh was like heaven….perhaps even better.

"Do they hurt?" I heard her ask after a while.

"Does what hurt?"

"The scars?"

She wanted to know about the scars? Why on earth would he wish to know about such a thing? wasn't I hideous enough without having her question it?

"No, not anymore." I confessed. "They are, however, very uncomfortable."

"It looks it."

I suddenly felt her finger glide over the lumpy scar that stretched across my left nipple. Oh, what a shiver it sent down my spine. No one has ever touched me in such a way.

"You should be getting back to the boy." I pathetically stated. "He's probably missing you."

"I…I um…talked to Raoul already."

"You did?"

"Yes, he told me to stay with you until you're well again."

I would have questioned her, but I was too tired to do so. I didn't believe one single word she was telling me. Why would Raoul, her fiancé want her to stay with me? He did try to kill me after all.

"Christine-"

"He's on a business trip." she said, cutting me off. "He'll be gone for a few months. Until he returns, my place shall be with you."

I felt Christine finishing with chest and beginning to pull off the blankets that were covering my manhood.

"No!" my hand shot up to stop her. She didn't need to see me like that. She shouldn't be touching nor looking at a naked man who she wasn't going to be marrying. Which began to make me wonder if her and the Viscount had-

"Erik, don't be so stubborn."

"It's not proper, Christine." I held the blankets over me with an iron grip.

"Erik, don't act as if I've never seen a naked man before."

My heart sank into my chest. Had she? Had that bastard deflowered my beautiful Christine?

"Have you?" I sneered.

There was a long silence and then a sigh. I knew this sigh…it was Christine's guilt sigh.

"No, I haven't."

I, myself, sighed in relief.

"Then there's no reason for you to see me." I held out my hand, and she placed the damp cloth into it. "Besides, I'm a far cry from being handsome down there."

I ran the damp cloth over my manhood, and down my legs. It was painful to be bending like this, but it would have to do. When I finished, I was so exhausted that I was in no mood to eat. Therefore, I fell asleep.

I was seeing again. My sight was back! I was locked in a cage back at the gypsy camp, screaming and pleading to be set free. I could see everything, feel the warmth from the sun burning my pale flesh, smell the fire burning only a few feet away, feel the cracking of a bullwhip against my back.

"Christine! Christine!" I called her name, hoping she would answer me. There was no one listening. My master; an obese gypsy with a long black beard, was working on me, cracking his whip against my back, pulling my clothes off my body, and touching me with his monstrous hands.

"Christine! Christine!" I was sobbing her name, hoping she going to come save me.

"There's no one here to save you, little monster."

I cried her name over and over again, only stopping when my master shoved his manhood down my throat. I was gagging, and pleading for him to stop, but he didn't stop.

"Your throat is like velvet." he groaned.

"Christine!"

I shot awake, sweaty and still blind. I had seen again, but only in my dream. But something was different. I felt soft fur against my hand, and heard a familiar bell. I knew this bell, and this fur…

"Ayesha?"

I heard a familiar meow, only to sigh in relief. Ayesha was my Siamese cat that I adopted one snowy night on the streets of Paris. She had been a special cat. Not only did she didn't cared that my face was deformed, but she also followed me around everywhere. Once, I had left the opera house late one night to run an errand, only to have her join me a while later. Which explains why she was here now. She always comforted me through my worst nightmares, purred at my touch, and licked my malformed face.

"Erik?"

I heard my name being called, only to feel Christine's touch against my arm.

"Yes?"

"I was sleeping. I heard you screaming in your sleep."

"Nightmare." was all I said as my hand continued to stroke Ayesha's fur.

"You all right?"

"Yes,"

"Awww, looks like you made a new friend, Erik"

"New friend?" I questioned. "This cat has been my companion for some years now. Her name is Ayesha."

"She has a name? But…how did she find you?"

"She always does."

"Well, she's very pretty."

"What time is it?"

"Um….about a quarter to three."

I felt Christine brushing a few strands of my hair out of my face.

"You should get some rest, Erik. Tomorrow, the doctor is going to perform another procedure on your wound."

"Why?" the last thing I wanted was to feel some strange man probing me again. If he had any intentions of smuggling me with his chloroform covered cloth again, he had another thing coming.

"The doctor said the knife barely missed your punctured lung. It's healing, but to insure that you'll continue to heal, he wants to drain the blood that seeped into it."

Just the thought of how painful that would be churned my stomach.

"Did he say how he was going to do it?"

"Insert a tube through your wound."

"Oh, Christine."

I wanted to die. I just wanted to die. Here I was, blind and in agony, and what did this doctor want to do? Probe and cut me open again.

"Erik, I'll be here beside you through the whole procedure." she assured. "I promise. But you need to trust me, Erik, and let the doctor do what he needs to do to help you. Can you do that?"

As much as I hated the thought of this strange man touching me, I knew I could trust Christine.

"I'll try." I said. "But you need to promise me that he won't use chloroform on me ever again."

"I'll speak with him."

"Thank you."

I closed my eyes and relaxed, never wanting morning to come.

"Your fever is still high."

"I feel a little better."

"Are you going to be all right?" she asked me. "I could stay with you until you fall asleep?"

"That's very kind of you, Christine, but nothing is going to take away my nightmares, not even your comfort."

"Are they really that bad?"

"Yes. I had a terrible childhood. For years I've tried to make the memories disappear, but nothing worked."

"What do you dream about?"

"The gypsies, my master, the bull whip cracking against my back…..being raped."

Christine gasped.

"Oh, Erik, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"It's all right. You don't need to pity me."

"Never, Erik."

She brushed my masked cheek, and I felt her press a kiss to its leathery material. I groaned with such pleasure upon feeling the pressure of her lips applied to my mask. Yes, it might not have been her lips against my face, but it was still amazing. No one had ever come this close to me before.

"I should get back to bed, Erik. If you should need me…." she stopped, and I heard her footsteps walking across the floor. When I heard the springs of her bed clinking, I heard her voice again. "I'll be right here."

Her voice sounded so close, so close that I was sure I could reach my arm out and touch her if I wanted to.

"Can you hear my voice?" she asked.

"Yes, you're so close."

"About three feet away."

It comforted me to know that she was so close. And so, with the feeling of Ayesha's soft fur beneath my fingers and the comfort in knowing that Christine was so close, I closed my eyes, slowly slipping back to sleep in my new found realm of darkness.

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><p><strong>I keep promising myself not to upload until CUTN is complete, but I just can't stop. Anyway, please review everyone!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Erik's POV**

I wasn't sure how I woke the following morning. Usually, waking up is when you open your eyes and you realize that morning is finally here. When you're blind, it's hard to tell what time of the day it was. It didn't matter anyway, I was stuck in this hell of what was to become the life I was to live for the remainder of my life. I had to stay on my side because of how much pain my back was in, and then switch sides when the one I would be laying on began to hurt me. It wasn't anything that I wasn't already used to. When I was living with the gypsies, there were many a nights when I would be limited to sleeping on my side because of the lashings I had been given all throughout the day.

Ayesha was still laying in my arms, giving me comfort and keeping me calm. My fever was still high, but Christine's quilt had kept me warm throughout the night. It smelled like her, every patch comforting my body as I laid there inhaling the wonderful scent of roses, the same scent she always had lingering around her. Oh, how I wouldn't love to bury my face into her soft curls and inhale the rosy fragrance forever more.

I suddenly heard footsteps, only to assume that it was Christine and the doctor approaching me. I still feared the doctor, just as much as I feared the entire world. He placed his hand over my forehead, feeling the intense heat of my fever. I pretended to be asleep, just to see if he would say something to Christine.

"His fever is higher than it was last evening." he said.

I laid there, feeling him pulling away a part of the quilt that was covered over my back. His boney fingers traced around my stitched up wound, causing me to groan. It was such an uncomfortable feeling and when his fingers made contact with it, a stinging sensation burned into my flesh. No, there was no more pretending that I was asleep, it was apparent that his examination had woke me.

"Erik, how are you feeling?" I heard Christine's concerned voice and felt her fingers lightly brushing away a few sparse hairs that were in my face.

How was I feeling? Exhausted for one. I knew this fever was taking a toll on me. I was completely exhausted, which, exhausted is something I never am. I could go for days without rest, but recently, I've been having trouble staying awake for more than a few hours.

"Tired." was all I said.

I was also having a hard time breathing comfortably. Was it because of my punctured lung? What ever it was, I didn't like the sensation.

"I'm going to wash up for his procedure." I heard the doctor say. "I'll get the chloroform."

My heart skipped a beat, but Christine was there to stop him from going any further.

"No, Erik told me last night that he would cooperate with you."

"I don't know if he'll want to be awake during this procedure. It's rather painful."

Anything but the blasted chloroform! No, I wouldn't have it! Not now and never again!

"I've suffered worse." I replied. "I don't want the chloroform. If you have some morphine, that would suffice."

Not another word was said and the doctor went along with his business. I was in enough agony as it was without having to be put out, back into an empty darkness. Yes, I would contain my anger for the time being in order to stay awake. When he retuned, I felt Ayesha being pulled out of my arms; something that angered me beyond anything. Ayesha was my security blanket, my sanity, and yet, she was being taken from me. She hissed and meowed in anger as the doctor pulled her away.

"How did a cat get in here?" he questioned.

"She belongs to Erik." Christine answered. "Please, don't throw her out."

"She can't be on the bed while I'm working."

"Then just put her outside in the hall for a while."

I heard something scratching across the wood of the floor and then Christine's petite hand caressing my own.

"You're going to be all right, Erik." she cooed. "Just lay there and relax."

I felt the doctor's hand touching my wrist. Something cool was being wiped there, and I knew he was preparing to inject me with the morphine I had requested.

"You're going to feel a slight pinch."

The pinch was no different than the thousands of pinch's I had caused myself from injecting my own body with morphine over the years. Morphine was one of the only thing that calmed me when I couldn't sleep.

Warmth filled my body and I relaxed against the blankets. I could feel the doctor probing around my back again, until I felt him make an incision. Searing pain tore through my entire body as his scalpel sliced into my flesh. I groaned and pressed my eyes shut, Christine's hand squeezing my own.

"Stay still, monsieur." I heard him order, as he began shoving a long tube into the opening in my back. I've felt every pain ever known to man, but never this….Never this unbearable sensation that was ripping through my body at the moment. I couldn't breathe! My body was screaming for air, but I couldn't get the amount I needed. I gasped and opened my mouth, but nothing was allowing me to suck it in.

"Erik?" Christine's voice was concerned. She must have noticed me trying to gasp for air.

"It's draining now." the doctor said.

"He can't breathe!"

Was this the end? I felt myself getting light headed. My chest get as though it had the weight of the world on top of it. Pressure, so much pressure prevented me from breathing.

"Hold him still!"

And then I blacked out. I must have died, surely that's what had to happen.

"Erik?"

I heard her voice. She was calling to me. She was calling to me to wake up. I opened my eyes only to be met with blackness again. I could breathe easier now, my body throbbing and my head pounding. I opened my voice to say something, but nothing came out.

"Erik, the doctor wants you to eat this. Could you eat something for me? You need to eat so you can take your medicine."

I couldn't speak, but I nodded.

Christine must have seen me, because a few moments later, I felt a soppy, moist substance against my lips. I wasn't hungry, but I did as she asked and opened my mouth. I knew this familiar taste, apple with a tad bit of cinnamon mixed in. This was applesauce.

"The doctor said I should feed you plain old applesauce, but I spiced it up with some cinnamon I found in the kitchen. Just don't tell anybody. This will be our little secret."

My angel, my Christine….sneaking and spicing up my food to make it taste better. She was certainly an angel sent from heaven.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, thank you." I managed to murmur in between swallowing the applesauce.

"I could sneak other things." she offered. "The doctor said you are to stay off solid foods for a while. Just until we leave here. I could whip something special up for you."

"What could possibly be both in liquid form and special?"

"Well, do you have a favorite drink?" she questioned. "I mean, I've never seen you drink or eat anything on your own accord before."

Eating and drinking were never important to me. The only time I would ever eat was when I absolutely had to, which wasn't often. Perhaps a piece of bread here and there, but, other than that, nothing. I was never allowed to eat as a child, and it was just a terrible habit that followed me all through adulthood. The first home cooked meal I actually had was when Christine cooked me dinner just the other night. So, what did I enjoy? I lay there, thinking extra hard about what I liked. I couldn't come up with much, but there was once a time when I was a small boy and came down with a brief illness. I came down with the chills and a slight fever which left me in bed for quite a few days. My mother always wished I would die, but when I became ill, that wish simply faded away and for the first time in my life, she cared for me. She gave me an extra blanket, read me stories from the end of my bed, even made me stew to make me feel better. Yes, the stew was the most delicious thing I had ever tasted. I lay there trying to remember everything that was in it…..Carrots, peas, strips of beef, beans, and broccoli. Yes, that stew was my favorite.

As for a favorite drink, there was only one thing I drank, if ever. It was a herbal tea. Back when I lived in Persia, I had many sleepless nights. At the time, I had a friend who recommended a tea to help me sleep. It was full of herbs and antioxidants. I thought he was crazy, but after drinking it once, I wound up drinking it on all my sleepless nights. It usually eased my worries, and made me drowsy within minutes. The only downside to drinking it when I was buried within my work was the fact that I always wound up falling asleep hunched over my organ, which is why I hardly drank it. But now that I was sleeping in a bed, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to have a cup or two.

"There's a herbal tea," I began. "It helps me sleep."

"All right. Tell me how to make it, and I'll do the best that I can."

"There's a stew my mother made me once when I was ill. It was a beef broth with vegetables in it. That's the food Erik likes most."

"I'll see what I can do." she was whispering now, so soft that it began to lull me to sleep.

"You should rest, Erik. You've had a hard day."

"Erik is in so much pain." I didn't like to complain, but I couldn't help it. My body was screaming and as much as I wanted to sleep, I couldn't.

"My poor angel. Where does it hurt the most?"

"My ankle."

I felt the blankets being folded back over my bare feet, only to have her gently lift up my wounded ankle and place it into what I assumed was her lap.

"The doctor said the healing will be a bit painful."

Her fingers brushed over my sore flesh…..Oh, what heaven this was! Christine, massaging my ankle! Now, if she would only-

"Erik, would you like me to sing for you?"

My prayers were answered! God! This must be heaven, it must be! Why else would the girl of my dreams be here with me, massaging my feet and offering to sing for me? Heaven, pure heaven!

"You would sing for me?"

"If that would make you feel better."

But no, I couldn't let her sing for me. Her voice is like sweet nectar, nectar which draws the hummingbird to taste its sweet flavor. The hummingbird becomes obsessive, coming back again and again just to taste that same nectar. I was that hummingbird, and Christine was the nectar. I had spent days without hearing her voice, days starved of my angel singing for me and only me. My obsession for her had worn off, and for the first time in my entire existence, I knew where she belonged-it wasn't with me. My world was cold, dark and lonely. Christine deserved to be with her handsome fop, warm and in the public eye. I still loved her, oh, how I loved her, but I knew where her heart lied. Which was why I couldn't let her sing for me. She would only be teasing the hummingbird, calling him back for another sweet taste, a taste that would certainly seal her fate forever more. I knew if she continued singing for me, and only me, I wouldn't be able to let her go…..But, who was I kidding? How was I ever going to let her go when the time came? I was blind, after all. She was all the eyes I had left. At least with her, she shed some light on my situation.

"No, Christine." I murmured. "I'm not feeling too well. Perhaps singing isn't the best thing to do for me at the moment. Perhaps another time."

But I knew that time would never come.

"It won't be long now, Erik. We'll be out of here soon enough."

"I'm in so much pain. I don't think I'll ever be able to leave here."

"Don't be silly. The doctor said you're doing much better."

"If only I could feel that way."

"I could ask the doctor to administer some more morphine?"

"No, morphine only makes me sleep."

Christine giggled. "You should. The doctor said you need to get as much as you can."

"If only sleeping were easy for me. My nightmares keep me up at night."

"Perhaps this will help."

I stayed quiet after that, laying there feeling her rubbing my sore feet. Oh, how wonderful it felt to have her doing this to me. Indeed, it did help, for I fell into a fitful sleep, only waking to the pitter patter of rain hitting the window. I wasn't sure what time it was, but I didn't care either. Ayesha was in my arms again, my fingers gently stroking her fur. It was quiet, too quiet. Was it night? I wasn't sure, but if Christine was asleep, I didn't want to disturb her by calling her name.

"What time is it, Ayesha?" I questioned, continuing to stroke her fur. "Do you know?"

I patted her back.

"Of course you don't know. Oh, Ayesha, if only you could speak. You could be my eyes. Christine won't stay with me. She's engaged."

Ayesha crawled into the crook of my arm, pushed her head against my chest.

"Jealous are we? Of course you are. But Christine, she's a living being, my soul mate. I just wish she'd feel the same way. She could give me the pleasure I've been yearning for my entire life. I could show her that I am a man, a loving, caring man."

But I paused, feeling my coldness of my mask, knowing the monstrosity that lied beneath it.

"Who am I kidding? What woman would ever want to be bound with this hideous monster?"

Ayesha purred against my palm, her paws whacking my hands as if playing with a ball of yarn. I smiled for the first time in weeks, moving my fingers away to tease her. But, she always found my hands again, slightly gnawing on my knuckles. I laid there playing and teasing my only friend, that was until I heard a terrible scream and a loud smash. This startled me and I sat up.

"Christine?" I called her name, but didn't get a reply.

Once again, the scream occurred again, this time, I knew for sure that it was Christine's.

"Let me go!" she was pleading and screaming to be let go of.

"Just give us the Phantom!" came a strange voice.

Someone was here for me! I could smell smoke and hear the scream again. I knew if I stayed here, I would be caught. Quickly, I stumbled out of bed, my ankle screaming as I limped across the floor, my arms outstretched to feel around. Ayesha was circling my legs, meowing as if she was trying to guide me to safety. I tripped and stumbled over furniture, clung to the walls to break my falls until I reached what I believed to be a door. The screams were far away now, making it clear that this door was a way to safety. I felt around for the door knob, turning it, and falling through to the other side. I groaned in agony, as Ayesha circled my body, pushing up against me, as if coaxing me to get up. I groaned and forced myself to get up, hobbling out in the cold. It was raining hard and I was blind. I kept my body up against the side of the building, keeping it close to me, using it like my eyes.

I heard screams, screams of passing people, screams of fright. I reached up, hoping to feel my mask in place, but it wasn't there. My fall must have knocked it out of place.

I was weak, I was exhausted, and to make matters worse, I couldn't breathe. When I couldn't walk any farther, I collapsed to my knees, collapsing my bare chest to the cold, wet ground. I lay there, feeling gravel stabbing my flesh and rain pelting me. Was this how I was going to die? I was shivering now, shivering and gasping for breath. Ayesha crawled on top of my chest and laid there, as if she were trying to keep me warm.

"Erik?"

I thought I heard Christine's voice, but it wasn't. This wasn't my Christine.

"Erik?"

I was nearly unconscious, but I could still hear her calling my name. It was a woman….and I knew this voice.

"Christine…" I murmured her name as I lay there gasping for air.

Did she get out all right? Oh, where was my Christine? If something happened to her, I would never forgive myself. Never would I ever forgive myself! Oh, curse this monster that I am! Curse him to hell!

"Christine," I called out her name again, a little louder this time, hoping she would answer me.

"Erik?" but that voice occurred again. This was not the voice that belonged to my Christine. But before I could answer, I blacked out, death was probably awaiting me.

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><p><strong>Please review everyone! Another chapter shall be up soon enough!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Erik's POV**

Christine….Christine! She was all that was on my mind. I awoke to the sound of rain pelting against a window, the feeling of strange blankets beneath my body, and the smell of damp wallpaper. My ankle was throbbing, so badly that it was going numb. I tried to sit up, but an ache tore through my body, one so bad that I collapsed back against the pillows.

"I was wondering when you were going to wake, monsieur Fantome." I knew this voice! It was the same voice I last heard before passing out. I heard footsteps coming towards me, footsteps and something extra hitting the ground. A walking stick perhaps? A staff?….Madame Giry!

"Madame Giry?" her name barely escaped my lips. My lungs felt as though they were being squeezed.

"Yes, who else? You were lucky I found you when I did. Otherwise the boy would have made sure his men caught you."

"What?"

"He paid them to come looking for you and Christine."

Christine! Oh, my poor Christine! I couldn't lay here like this while my angel was out there all alone, possibly being raped by these horrible men. Once more, I attempted to sit up, but Madame Giry's hand forcefully pushed me back against the bed.

"And just where do you think you are going? Blind, and helpless?"

"I have to find her, Madame!"

"Christine does not wish to be found. She is where she belongs, monsieur."

"No, she was screaming! I heard her, you must believe me!"

"Screaming?" the old woman teased. "Don't be silly. Oh, Erik, she was putting on a show. She is back in the arms of her lover."

"She could have left me at any time, Madame. But she didn't. She stayed with me…."

Madame Giry laughed. It was an insulting laugh….how dare she do this to me!

"Oh, Erik, did you truly think that you-" she laughed again. "….and that she would actually- Oh, I'm torturing myself with such humor."

She was right. How could someone like her love someone like me? Perhaps she was where she belonged.

"So what now?" I pathetically asked. "What is to become of me?"

"Well, I have always protected you. I don't see a reason to stop now. When you're better, I'll ship you to another country….Germany perhaps? I'll find you a good home housing other blind men."

"You mean a mental facility?" I corrected. "A place where there are disabled beings, dumped off by their families and being cared for by the scum of mankind? Is that where you mean, Madame?"

"You know you need to go there. You're blind, Erik."

"Do you know what they do to people in those places?"

"You are so ungrateful! Everything is always about you! I could give you up now to the authorities if I wanted to, but I'm not that kind of person."

"You think you're doing me a favor by sending me to a home? Why not send me back to the gypsies then? Both are equally the same. I'll be raped, and beaten….."

"You have no choice, Erik. I cannot continue housing you. Paris will be searching for you come morning."

I heard her walking away.

"Have a goodnight's rest monsieur."

And with that, I heard the door slam shut.

For the first time in a long time, I cried. I couldn't be sent to a hospital. I read about all the horrible things that take place in those facilities. If I were sent there, surely my memories and nightmares would only worsen. Christine had been kind, Christine had never once brought up any of those horrible places. She promised to be there for me, to help me with everything! But it was obvious that I had become a burden. Why else would she want to go back to her boy? She didn't deserve to live like she was, to be stuck helping me everyday of her life. But I made up my mind for sure. I wasn't going to be sent to that hospital. I'd rather die than have to live alone forevermore. There would be no visitors for me, no love, no kindness….no Christine!

I missed Christine with all my heart. I missed having her rub my sore ankle, I missed having her feed me, I even missed her scent. I had to die. I would not allow myself to be taken away. But this room was unfamiliar, this room that I was in most likely held no tool strong enough to do the job. I began feeling around my body, feeling for anything I could tear apart that would cause death. Then, my fingers brushed over the clean stitches from the wound Raoul had caused me below my rib cage. I didn't want my death to be agonizing, but at the moment, I knew this was the only way. I took a deep breath and held it as I dug my nails into the stitches, tearing them apart, and causing my wound to reopen. How badly I wanted to scream, but I continued holding my breath as fresh blood began to flow from my body. I laid there, whimpering and feeling the sticky moisture dripping from every inch of my torso.

All through the night, I laid there, awaiting death as my open wound burned. The bed sheets were drenched in my blood, but sadly, my bleeding came to an end. This was only the beginning of my death, for when morning arrived, I was left with an infected wound and a deathly high fever. When Madame Giry came in and saw what I had done to myself, she scolded me like a little child. Though, she did not attempt to help me. She couldn't get a doctor because her cover would be blown, and with how infected the wound was, she told me it was most likely lethal.

I laid there, my wound burning and oozing sticky puss that reeked of death. I was delirious, feverish, and cold. I was waiting for death to take me, waiting for my life to come to and end, but it was obvious that God had other plans for me, because I wasn't dead yet. Madame Giry wrapped my open wound with a bandage, but did not attempt to do anything more. I had wanted death, but because I had wanted it so badly, God was making me suffer.

The pain was horrible, the fever was even worse. I began hallucinating, hearing voices that weren't actually there; my master being one of them. My breathing had turned heavy, so heavy that I was sure I was going to perrish at any given moment. Then, one night, nearly four days after I had reopened my wound, I heard a voice I thought I'd never hear again. I heard someone approaching from down the hall, two sets of footsteps.

"You wouldn't believe what he's done to himself." I heard Madame Giry say. "I've been waiting for death to take him, but he's still alive."

"How could you not send for a doctor?"

Christine! Oh, I'd know that voice anywhere. But I could not speak, nor could I see her. I was most likely headed to death's door. I heard the bedroom door opening, and I could hear Madame Giry approaching me. Then, I smelled roses….it had to be Christine!

"My God…."

I felt the blankets being torn away from my body, only to feel the familiar soft flesh of Christine's hands brushing over the soaked bandage.

"Erik? Erik?"

I wanted to answer her, but I couldn't.

"Why would he do this?"

"Because I was sending him away to a home in Germany. All of Paris is searching for him."

"How could you do this? I have to get him out of here."

"You can't move him. He'll be barely able to walk. What about a doctor? He'll die without one."

"I have a place I could go." Christine said. "He'll be safe there. Order me a carriage to pick us up within the hour."

I lay there, feeling Christine fumbling around with my wound. I ached from the soreness, as I felt the searing twinge of alcohol being poured over my open wound. My body arched off the mattress, but Christine pushed me back down. My heart was pounding against my ears, I was delirious, but Christine continued helping me. She forced me to sit up despite how weak I was, she even dressed me as her hand supported my dead weight. When the carriage arrived, Christine and Madame Giry held onto me, and dragged me outside. I was bleeding again, making the carriage ride most uncomfortable for me. My head was placed into my angel's comfortable lap, as her hands brushed my hair ever so softly. If I were to die now, I'd die a happy man. Bump after bump, my body cringed and whimpered at the unbearable pain, but Christine was right there to keep me calm.

When I could no longer handle the pain, I blacked out, never knowing if I were going to wake again. But I did. I woke sometime later, feeling needles stabbing my flesh, needles and thread sewing me up again. I whimpered softly, before falling a slave again to the blackened world of unconsciousness. Though, when I woke again, I was once again, in a strange bed with strange blankets covering me. I wasn't sure where I was, but I was so ashamed of myself for what I had done. I had fallen into a deep depression, one that left me wanting nothing more than for death to overtake my body. Christine was with me again, she massaged my sore ankle, talked to me, even though I never spoke back. I believed she thought I was still unconscious, even though I wasn't. Nothing could make me happy. She sat there telling me that she had brought me to an old family friend of her father's. That he was a doctor and a kind man, that we would be safe here because we were far away from Paris.

I refused to eat when she tried to feed me, I refused to speak when she asked me questions. I was a body with no soul left to bring happiness to anyone, not even Christine. My wound healed, but nothing could take away the hole in my heart, the hole that was becoming even deeper each day. Christine didn't love me, I missed my music, and most of all, my sight.

"Erik, I just want you to know that I never meant to leave you." Christine brushed my hand with her own. "I lied when I said that Raoul was on a business trip. I couldn't have told him where I really was. He found out, and ordered to have me brought home. I left as soon as I could."

"Why?" I growled. "Why did you leave him?"

"Because I have a choice, Erik."

"And you are his fiancée."

"And I am your friend. You needed my help, and you still do. Raoul has no say on this matter, even though he tries to have the last word."

"So he doesn't know where you are right now?"

"No, Erik. I ran away."

"You should return to him." I spat. "Go, go back to him."

"I will, but only when I am ready to."

"You should have let me die."

"I can understand why you tried to do so, Erik. But let me promise you that I will never allow you to be put into a hospital. I know what happens in those places, and I will never send my angel to hell."

My breath was taken away. This woman was such an angel, she was an angel sent from heaven, and even if she could not love me, she would always have a special place in my heart.

"Erik, you can't continue to go on like this. I'm here with you, I want to help."

How badly I wanted to comply with her wishes, but I was so disheartened.

"Hey, I have something that will make you feel better." she said, playfully slapping me on the shoulder.

I heard her rummaging through something, before helping me sit up.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't answer me, only placed something into my hands. My fingers brushed up against the object, feeling wire strings and fancy carvings beneath them. I knew what this was, this was a violin.

"My father's." Christine said. "Would you play for me?"

"I can't," I argued. "I'm blind."

"Here," Christine placed the bow into my left hand, her fingers gently brushing up against my own. The mere feeling sent shivers up my spine.

"I can't, Christine. This is your father's."

"Indeed, it is, but I'd really like it if you played for me."

My fingers brushed up against the wire strings, creating a familiar symphony. Even though I was blind, I was still able to play by memory, my fingers playing for her and only her. Happiness filled my heart as I played a song I used to play Christine when she was a little girl.

"Erik, that was wonderful." Christine said once I was finished.

"It felt wonderful."

"I'll let you play it anytime you'd like. It seems that it lightens your spirit."

Christine took the instrument from my hands, placing it back into its case.

"It's noon, Erik." she said. "Friday to be exact."

"Time goes by so quickly when you can't see a thing."

"Your fever has subsided." Christine said, brushing her fingers over my forehead. "I was worried there for a while."

"My body is in misery ."

"Well, how about something to eat? You must be hungry?"

"I'm tired of eating mush." I complained. "Soup and applesauce is beginning to churn my stomach."

"I think we can slip a little, can't we?" she teased. "I'll make you that stew you told me about, and the herbal tea that helps you sleep."

My heart began to race with joy. Oh, woe to Erik! He doesn't deserve to have such an angel at his bedside.

"You just relax, and I'll be right back."

I heard her walk away, my heart still leaping with joy. She returned a while later, a wonderful smelling scent traveling with her.

"I hope this is as good as you wish it to be." she said, sitting down beside me on my bed. I felt her remove my mask, and place it into my lap before attempting to spoon feed me.

"It's a little hot, Erik." she said. "Just take your time."

The first spoonful was placed to my malformed lips, and I accepted it. My mother's stew tasted wonderful, but Christine's tasted ten times better. She included every vegetable I had told her about, the wonderful taste lingering on my tongue as I swallowed it.

"So, is it any good?" she nervously asked.

"Wonderful. Oh, Christine, it tastes so wonderful."

She giggled, and continued feeding me.

"Good, I want you to keep eating."

And I did. I ate every last drop of it. I ate it until there was no more left to eat, and then I drank the herbal tea she made me. It did the job, and a few moments after sipping the last drop, I began to feel tired.

"I'm proud of you, Erik." she happily said. "You ate every last drop."

I snuggled into my pillow, and yawned.

"Yes, I was hungry. Thank you for making me lunch, it was the best meal I had in years."

Christine giggled, and began tucking me in, the warmth of the blankets cradling my body with comfortable warmth. My fever was coming down, leaving me with the chills. She must have seen me shivering, because I felt her hands begin rubbing the blankets up against my body.

"Erik, if you're cold, tell me. You're shaking like a leaf."

"Just a little."

And then Christine did something I thought she'd never do, she crawled into bed, and leaned against my back, wrapping her arms around my body to warm me. I sighed against her touch, as her hands instantly heightened my body's temperature.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you."

"You should rest, Erik. Afterwards, I'll help you to the bathroom and get you washed up."

Christine crawled out of my bed, a gesture that made me sad. I knew she was only doing this to be nice, but I couldn't help but want more, much much more. But now that she brought up the bathroom, I suddenly had the urge to relieve myself. Though, I was too cold and too tired to get out of bed, and holding it would do me no good.

"Christine, before you go, could you-that is," Oh, how was I to say this?

"Yes, Erik?"

"I have to….um…go to the bathroom."

"Oh," was all she said, before walking away and reproaching me a few moments later. She handed me something smooth and cold-I guessed it to be a jar of some sort.

"Let's try it this way." she said. "Besides, all Mr. Lavere has here, is a chamber pot. I don't think you're in the right condition to use that at the moment."

She was right, the last thing I needed was to be stumbling over a chamber pot. It was hard enough to aim for the toilet. The jar was much easier. The only thing I had to do was place my member into the opening. Plus, it was beneath the blankets, so Christine didn't have to leave the room. But, because I was so tired, holding the jar was a task all in itself.

When I was finished, I placed my member back into my trousers, and held the filled jar out to her. She took it from me, and walked away to get rid of the urine.

"Erik, your urine is red!" she gasped. "That's not good. Who knows what kind of infection you brought on your body because of what you did."

She was right, I was feeling extremely weak. Perhaps tearing open my wound wasn't the best thing to do. But as of right now, I was too tired to care. And so, with a full stomach, I slipped away into a much needed sleep, knowing that when I woke, Christine would be beside me.

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><p><strong>Please review! This story will get updated more frequently once I'm finished with CUTN.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Erik's POV**

Over the next few days, I spent them in bed. I couldn't help but feel depressed at times, mostly all the time. Being blind had made me not only bored, but also feel as if I were living in another world. My ankle was healing quickly, all thanks to Christine's loving hands. She massaged my aches and pains every moment of the day.

"It's a beautiful day, Erik."

Christine came walking into my room one morning after a horrible night's rest. I had not slept a single wink all night, making my exhaustion ten times worse.

"Let's go out, Erik."

Was she serious? Out? She acted as if I had my sight, as if I were playing on my piano and she was asking me to take a break.

"No." was all I said before rolling over to pull the blankets over my head.

Out. She wanted to go out? How could I possibly be seen with her in pure daylight? How could I possibly walk with her, as if I were her lover or a friend taking a Sunday stroll with her? I was never that man, and now that I was blind, I never would be. Christine pulled the blankets off my body, obviously not taking "no" as an answer.

"Erik, you always told me that you wanted to have a wife to take out on Sundays."

"It's not Sunday." I growled. "And you're not my wife."

"Erik, don't be like this. You've been in bed for days, it'll be good to get out for a while."

I knew Christine was right, but the sheer thought of embarrassing her and myself made me cringe. I heard Christine moving about, coming back to my bed and lifting me up into a sitting position.

"I'll freshen you up, dress you in your best, and we'll be off."

Christine did just that. She helped me change into a fresh pair of clothes, before combing my hair for me. I didn't have much, but Christine promised to have me looking like my old self again. When she lifted me to my feet, I stumbled, but she was there to catch my fall.

"Steady, Erik." she warned. "Don't move around too much, the floor isn't level in here."

I stood still, until she interlocked my arm with her own.

"Oh, Monsieur Lavere made this for you."

Christine placed something wooden into my hand.

"It's a black walking staff with a skull knob." she said. "I know how much you love skulls, so he carved you one."

"Thank you."

Oh, how embarrassing this was. Not only was Christine holding onto me so I wouldn't fall, but she was also making me walk around with a staff.

"Hold it out in front of you to scan the ground."

I tapped the staff around as I took my first steps, feeling furniture and strange objects laying about. It was frustrating, but I held in my anger as I nearly tumbled over something wooden and wide... A hope chest perhaps?

"Step up." she warned.

When I did, I tripped again, this time, my anger took a turn for the worst.

"Confounded!" I threw the walking stick aside, hearing it clunk to the floor on the other side of the room.

"Erik, you're doing well."

"Well!" I snapped. "Well! I am fumbling around like a blind bat!"

Christine let me go, but I knew she only did so to get a hold of the stick I had thrown.

"Erik, you're on your own. You need to start trying to be independent. Giving up will do you no good."

She shoved the staff back into my hand.

"I look like a complete idiot, Christine! Look at me! Repugnant, and now, blind!"

"If I didn't know you, I'd believe you to be a handsome one."

This took my breath away. Handsome? Did she really think of me to be handsome? No, she was only saying this to give me confidence.

"Let's try to walk, Erik."

For Christine, and only for Christine, I walked swaggering the staff around in front of me. I heard Christine opening the door, and heard the strange voice of a man.

"Oh, I see monsieur is finally up and walking around?"

Christine giggled.

"Yes, monsieur Lavere, I'm taking him for a walk around the cottage, perhaps even to the beach."

"Nice day for it. If you need anything, I'll be in the barn taking care of the chickens."

Next thing I knew, Christine was leading me out the door. I knew I was outside when I felt the warmth of the sun hitting my face.

"Feel good?" I heard Christine ask.

It did. So many days and nights spent in the confinements of a chilly room made me forget what if felt like to be out in the sunlight. Even when I lived back at the opera house, I never went out during the day, I was a night crawler.

"Be careful, Erik." Christine warned. "There's a lot of gravel scattered around."

She kept her arm interlocked with my own, as she guided me away from the house. I could hear birds happily singing, crickets chirping, even the clopping of horse hooves against the cobble road.

"Do you like this?" she asked, breaking our silence. "You're being rather quiet."

She was right, I was being rather quiet. Why? Why was I being so quiet? It wasn't like I didn't have anything to say. Christine and I always had long conversations.

"Is it beautiful out here?" I curiously asked. "What does it look like?"

"Well, there are lovely pink blossomed trees, tall grass, and a cobble road."

"Any houses nearby?"

"They are spaced yards apart."

We continued walking, me stumbling along the way as my walking staff swaggered in front of me. Was this really how it felt to be out and about with another human being? We walked along arm in arm, something I never experienced up until now. I heard some women talking as they passed by, giggling and gossping. Were they giggling at me? I probably looked like a complete fool.

"They were laughing at me, weren't they?" I embarrassingly mumbled.

"Don't pay any mind to them, Erik."

"You shouldn't be out with me, Christine. I'm making you look bad."

"No, never."

Christine then stopped me, and told me to stand still. I wasn't sure what she was doing, but when she helped me sit down, I noticed that there was a blanket placed on the ground. Had she placed it there? I heard her sit down beside me, oh, she was so close. But, this felt strange. Here I was, on the first picnic in my entire life, and I was blind. I could still feel the sun on my face, even feel the summer breeze blowing our way.

"Relax, Erik." Christine said. "You're so tense."

"Why don't you try sitting out here blind as a bat. I can't see a damn thing."

"You're still upset over the people passing by?"

"How could I not be? I'm making you look bad."

"No, Erik, you're doing no such thing. Besides, you need to be outside, you're so pale."

But nothing she could say was going to make me change my mind. Moments later, I felt Christine's hands massaging my shoulders. I sighed, and relaxed against her touch.

"Better?" she asked.

"I guess."

"Here, why don't you lay your head in my lap. You'll feel better if you do."

Me? Lay my head in Christine's lap? Oh, what a wonderful offer.

I agreed, and she gently guided my head into her soft lap. But what if I was hurting her? What if my head was crushing her lap?

"Am I hurting you?"

"No, I'm fine."

Her fingers stroked the hair out of my face, as my unfocused eyes stared out into the oblivion.

"Your eyes are starting to look normal again."

"Really?"

"Yes, the redness is going away. They are beautiful, you know."

"What? My eyes?"

"Yes, I love how they're two shades of blue."

She loved my eyes? Oh, no body loved them, especially my mother. She used to tell me how hideous they were. But Christine, she loved them?

"Do you have a favorite shade?" I curiously asked.

My left eye was a darker shade of blue, when my right was a clear color, almost sky blue.

"A favorite shade?" she giggled.

Oh, how could I ask her that? I should have been happy with just the comment she gave on my eyes. But, here I was asking for more. Asking for more never did me any good. I have learned to go through life satisfied with what ever I received. So why was I asked Christine for more?

"I'm sorry, Christine." I stuttered. "Forget I asked."

"No, no-" she began. "I was just caught off guard. But now that you've asked, I like your right eye best."

"The ugly clear one?" I questioned.

"It's not ugly. It's like staring into the sky on a beautiful day."

"Stop being nice."

"I'm not, Erik. I wish I had eyes like that."

"You don't. You don't know the pain that comes along with being born with these eyes."

"Well, I love them."

"I'm not feeling well." I said.

Oh, I would say anything just to go back to where we were staying. I wasn't worthy of Christine's kindness and yet, here I was, laying here accepting it as if I deserved it.

"Erik, is your fever coming back?" she placed her hand over my forehead in worry. Great, now I was making her worry.

"I don't deserve to be out here with you." I said. "I'm not worthy."

"Erik, you're not an animal. You're a human being. Now, if I didn't want to be seen with you, I wouldn't have offered to take you out for a walk. Just relax, Erik."

"I wish I could."

"What would make you feel better?"

"Oh, Christine, you've given me more than I ever deserve. Just tell me you want to be here with me, and not with your lover?"

"I…." Christine paused, making me uncomfortable. Did she not want to be here with me? "I do miss him, Erik, but-"

"But what? So you don't want to be here with me?"

I heard enough! Who would want to be here with me? I was a monster! Without another word, and without my staff, I quickly stood up, stumbling off to God knows where. I bumped into trees, ran into bushes, even tripped over the sidewalk before falling flat on my face. I heard Christine calling for me to stop, but I wouldn't. I knew I had cut my face open from my fall, but I didn't care, I stood up and continued stumbling about. This time, however, I bumped into people who shoved me right back. I could hear galloping horses getting closer and closer, but still, I wasn't stopping.

"Erik! Erik stop!" Christine was calling my name, but I refused to listen to her. I was a hideous beast! I was hideous, and I was holding her back from what she really wanted in life. I let her go once, and I was trying to do it again. She needed to return to Raoul, she needed to be with him! But me, being the monster that I was, just continued to keep her captive because of my affliction.

"Erik!"

I must have crossed the road because I felt cobble beneath my feet. But did I stop after that? Of course not. I continued my stumbling, until there was no more ground to walk on. I felt myself falling, my body floating in thin air, if only for a few seconds. I landed on something softer-sand perhaps? I could even hear the ocean. The impact had left my body stunned, making it impossible for me to get up on my own and continue running. I wanted to die now. I wanted to die before Christine found me. Just when I thought that perhaps she could love me-Oh, why must I dwell on things that shall never be? Christine would never love me. She was engaged to marry another, and yet, I was hoping it would be the other way around.

"Erik!" she was close now, so close that I could hear her footsteps approaching me. "Erik, oh my god-"

I felt her kneeling beside me. Maybe if I didn't answer her, she would believe me to be dead. I wasn't going to answer her anyway. Not after what she just told me.

"Erik, Erik, answer me!" she was pressing her fingers to my neck, laying my head in her lap, oh, what was I to do? "Erik, please-oh, you're bleeding."

"Just take me home." was all I groaned, before she helped me to my feet.

I wasn't sure, but I thought I heard her sniffle, as if she were crying. Though, I didn't ask. I knew it be best not to. Christine did as I told her to, and took me back to where we were staying, our journey back being completely silent. When I knew we were back in my room, I began stripping off my clothes and threw them wherever my arms aimed. I wasn't sure where Christine was, but by the sound of movements behind me, it was obvious that she was picking up my discarded clothes. I waited for her to lay a hand on me to guide me back to bed, but thankfully, she knew better than to touch me. Instead, I felt around until I felt the blankets. When I was back beneath the covers, I laid there, still hearing her moving about. Just the mere thought of her cleaning up after me made me angry.

"Just put them back where I tossed them!" I growled.

"Monsieur Lavere has let us stay here, Erik." Christine replied, a hint of frustration in her voice. "I'm not going to let you make it into a pig pen. Then where would that leave us if we got booted out?"

"Us? There is no us, Christine! You have a nice estate back in Paris to live in with a handsome boy to cradle you in his warm arms at night. Me? I'm the one who will most likely be living in a milk crate outside of the city."

"You act as if your blindness has caused the end of your life! People go blind all the time, Erik. You're still alive incase you haven't noticed."

"I am useless, Christine! And how dare you attempt to bring me outside, as if I were healthy? You saw how those people reacted when they saw me! They laughed! A blind monster!"

"Who cares what the world thinks, Erik. All that should matter is that you have someone to look after you."

"For how long! You'd leave me tomorrow if I had my sight. You pity me, Christine. If I were my normal self, you wouldn't even be here."

The room fell silent. Was I right, or was I right?

"You're acting like a child."

"And you're acting like you owe me something! I don't need you, Christine! I've been alone my whole life!"

"I just thought you would want someone here with you to get you through the first few days of being blind."

"That's where you're wrong, Christine!" I tossed a pillow in the direction that her voice was coming from, hoping it had hit her. "If you were so concerned about me, where were you when my mother abused me? Where were you when my master had me face down in the dirt while raping me from the backside? Where were you when I begged you to love me? You were nowhere. There is no God, and there is no love. You're putting on a show, a pity show. I've gotten through all those things alone, and I'll do the same now."

"Erik-I-"

"Everyday, Christine. Everyday of my childhood I was molested. I would cry myself to sleep, curled up in a ball, praying to God to send me an angel to save me. That never happened, and even now, when I need one the most, still, God mocks me. Instead of true love, he sends me a pity party. Go back to your boy, and leave me be."

"You think by begging me to love you that I would do it? You don't know how to love."

Those cruel words tore through me like a bolt of lightning. I didn't know how to love?

"And you're wrong about God." she cried. "If you believe in him, then he will help you."

"Just like you believed that he sent you the angel of music?" I cruelly remarked.

Once more the room fell silent. I knew I had insulted her, which is exactly what I had intended to do. If it weren't for me coming forward as her angel, Christine's childhood would have been completely silent. She would have gotten no reply when she came down to pray for her father.

"With the way you treat women, Erik," she cried. "You deserve to be alone. You are a cruel man."

"If I am cruel, it's only because the world has made me that way!"

"At least one day, I'll know what it feels like to make passionate love to my future husband. I know what love is, Erik, and I know that you will never feel it."

"I don't need love!" I snapped. It was a lie, but I was angry, completely angry and willing to say anything to get her away from me.

"Oh, so you think buying time with whores will make you feel any better!" she cried.

"That is non of your concern!" Oh, this was beginning to hurt. She was digging deep, so deep that it was pulling at my heart strings. Yes, I've tried on several occasions to feel the joys of the flesh, but not one whore would take my money. The mask frightened them away.

"By that vacant expression displayed upon your face, I'd take it that no whore would accept your money? It's never going to happen for you now, Erik! You're still not only hideous, but you're blind too. Who would ever want a blind monster!"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I never knew Christine could say such hurtful things. The room fell silent, and moments later, I heard her begin sobbing right before the door to my room slammed shut. She had stormed away, and me? I was left laying there, tears forming in my eyes, and my heart aching over the words that were just said to me. But what could I say? Every word was true. No whore would want nor take me, and Christine would never love me…..

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><p><strong>Awww...their first fight. LOL Please Review everyone! I promise it will be getting a bit happier soon.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hey everyone, just a quick note. I know that Erik is acting very OOC, but I promise you that soon, he will be back to his old self. I will also have chapters in different POV's soon as well. Please keep your reviews coming. Thank you.**

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><p><strong>Erik's POV<strong>

God! I had treated her like a monster, but she had treated me worse. Oh, the way she talked to me! The words that she said! Those horrible, cruel words! I laid there for hours silently sobbing. I wasn't even sure blind men could cry until now. Then again, I never usually cried. I was the Phantom! A man that everyone feared! And here I was crying over what Christine had said to me like a little child. The tears made my eyes sore, and burned my healing orbs before running down my cheek. The room was silent for hours after our fight. Did she leave me and return to her boy? I wouldn't blame her if she did. A little while later, I felt something jump up onto my bed, only to feel Ayesha's familiar fur. Yes, her presence had made me happy, but not enough for me to stop crying. My only companion licked my tears with her sandpaper tongue, as my fingers stroked her fur.

"Oh, Ayesha, I'm not even worthy of your love."

When I grew tired of laying there, I decided to take a stroll around the house. As much as I hated being blind, I maneuvered myself into a sitting position, before reaching around for the walking stick Christine had given me. Once my hand was around the knob, I used it to guide me around anything I could trip over. Once I reached what I believed to be a door, I turned the doorknob and stepped out into the next room. It was silent, except for a crackling sound every few moments. I could feel heat, making it obvious that there was a fire lit in the hearth. This was much better than the drafty room I was staying in. I continued walking around the room, feeling the heat of the fire getting closer. I used my hand to feel around until I noticed that there was an armchair in front of me.

I took a seat, feeling quite comfortable now that I was seated in an upright position. I rested my head against the side of it as the heat from the fire continued to warm my cold body. Soon, Ayesha was in my lap, purring against my hand as I petted her.

"Perhaps she'd be better off without me." I said. "Maybe we should leave here without anyone knowing."

But I knew that was clearly impossible. I had no idea where the nearest town was, nor did I know the way to Calais. My only way to live would be to leave Paris for good. I was a wanted man, and if Raoul knew I was alive, Paris probably knew as well. Suddenly, the door opened, and I heard footsteps approaching, and Christine talking to whom I presumed to be the owner, monsieur Lavere.

"Thank you for helping me carry in these eggs, Christine." he said.

"No problem, monsieur. I'll get to making dinner right away."

"That's very kind of you, Christine, but I'll be going into town. I have a dinner planned with Madame Tusslicy. She's quite the cook, you know."

"You're still seeing her?" Christine giggled. "You were in love with her when I was a child."

"Still am."

I heard monsieur Lavere walking away and smelled Christine's scent getting closer. I stayed quiet in my chair, hoping that she wouldn't notice me. I heard the door to my bedroom being opened, and Christine gasp. It was obvious that she noticed that I was not in bed.

"Monsieur Lavere?" Christine called his name loud enough so he could hear her.

"Yes, Christine?" came a far away answer.

"Is monsieur Erik with you?"

"No. Is he not there?"

"No, he's not in bed."

I continued to stay quiet, until I felt the breeze of Christine passing by. But that breeze did not go away…..No, she must be standing right beside me. I was still angry with her, and so, I pretended to be asleep, hoping to avoid all conversation with her.

"Did you find him?"

"Yes," Christine shouted. "He's in the parlor-sleeping in the armchair."

Her fingers brushed over my forehead, checking me for a fever that wasn't there. Why did she care about me? Why did she care when the words she had said hurt me more than life itself?

"Erik?"

I heard her softly call my name, but I didn't answer her.

"Erik?"

When I didn't answer her, she walked away. Only then, did I open my eyes….. For a while, I sat there, hearing her fumbling around in the kitchen. Soon, wonderful smells began to emerge, smells that made my stomach growl. No, I wouldn't do this! I wouldn't eat what ever she was making. I refused to have dinner with a woman who spoke so ill of me. Did she really expect me to act as if none of those words were said?

"Erik?" she was coming towards me again. "Are you ready to eat? I made dinner."

Yes, my eyes might have been open, but I was not speaking to her. The hell with speaking to Christine. After all she put me through?

"Erik, I know you're not sleeping, and you're surely not dead. Please, talk to me."

"After what you said to me?"

"Maybe I was a little harsh."

"A little? Your words were cruel."

"Erik, could we please just have dinner together?"

I was a little hungry, and I knew she wasn't going to leave me alone unless I agreed to it. I didn't say another word, only stood up and used my stick to guide myself to the kitchen. Once there, I heard Christine pulling out a chair, only to be guided into it.

"I can do it myself!" I growled.

"I just didn't want you to fall."

"I said I was all right!"

Christine sighed, and walked to the other end of the kitchen.

"Don't be like this, Erik, I'm only trying to help you."

"Not even a whore would take me-remember that? Does that ring a bell?"

There was silence, and I knew Christine was thinking about what to say.

"I-I was angry, Erik. You may not know this, but when I'm angry, I tend to say things that I don't mean. You insulted my father-put his words to shame."

She was right. I had put her father's words to shame. But what Christine had said was ten times worse. The chair that I was sitting in was large enough to contain my entire body. I let my aching back settle against it, letting my head lean to the side. I was still tired, making my little excursion from bed sounding more and more like a bad idea. Christine on the other hand was far from done trying to win back my company.

"Erik, you look so tired." she was changing the subject inch by inch as she placed a drinking glass into my hand.

"Drink up." she warned. "It's wine."

Wine? Oh, sweet, delicious wine….I hadn't had a glass in over three weeks. I lifted the glass to my lips, and indulged myself in the bitter taste. This flavor was very distinct. I was a frequent wine drinker, especially when I was feeling lonely-which was mostly all the time. This had to be white wine, there was no denying it. I let the bitter flavor linger on my lips as I slowly sipped it.

"Good?" she asked me.

"Yes, thank you."

By the time I had the entire glass empty, exhaustion took over. My stomach was still a little upset over our argument, making it impossible for me to have an appetite for dinner. I smelled something being placed down in front of me, but I held no interest in eating what ever it was.

"Here, Erik," Christine placed something warm at my lips, but I turned my head away.

"Erik, you have to eat something. How else are you going to take your medicine?"

"I'm not hungry."

"But you told me you were."

"I was," I placed my hand over my churning stomach. "But not anymore."

Damn me! Damn me to hell! This had been all I ever wanted-Christine and I alone-eating meals together, and yet, here I was moving my way from it all. But who was I to believe that she wanted to have dinner with me on her own accord? She was taking care of me-that's all she was doing. If I had my sight, she wouldn't be sitting here with me right now. But I wasn't lying to her when I said that my stomach was bothering me. It was beginning to cramp up. Perhaps drinking that wine wasn't such a good idea.

"Erik? You're breaking out in a sweat." her hand was on my forehead in and instant. Was I sweating? I hadn't been sure.

"Here, let me get you to bed."

Her arm came under my own to lift me to my feet. I nearly fell, but Christine was there to help me stay standing. She walked me back to my room, and laid me down. Oh, this made everything ten times worse.

"Rest up, Erik." she said. "I'll check on you a little later."

And just like that, she was gone. My stomach ached terribly, brining back memories of my illness spent alone. I got sick at least once a month back when I lived beneath the opera house. I believed it was the draft leaking into my house, but, what was I to do? Laying in bed with the flu or chills was not fun, especially alone. There was no one there to cook me broth, or to read to me-I knew Ayesha would have done those things if she could have, but she was a cat and nothing more. My cat curled herself up onto my pillow, playfully swaying her tail in my face. Tonight, however, I was in no mood for games. I swung my arm about to stop her from teasing me, causing my arm to hit some sort of sack that was laying on the floor beside my bed. Curious, my fingers skimmed the tough fabric, until I realized that this was my bag of belongings. My hand dug into the opening, feeling my clothes, even the grooves of my monkey music box. There were even a few books packed as well.

I pulled one out and traced my fingers over the leathery cover. I used to spend most of my time reading until I fell asleep. Reading helped me take my mind off things, especially Christine and her fop. I would never read again…..Oh, how I missed it terribly. Now, instead of reading stories about romance and handsome prince's, I was limited to thinking about them and remembering what happened in every story I read. Boring, really.

I suddenly dropped the book, when a horrible cramp wracked my stomach. I groaned, and clutched my hand over the part that was hurting me. I don't know how it happened, but when the cramp passed, the wine I had drank came up. It was so sudden, that I didn't have a chance to call for Christine or find a chamber pot in time. No, it was so sudden that I leaned over the side of the bed and vomited on the floor. When I had finished, I was out of breath and disgusted. Christine must have heard, or smelled the evidence of what I had just done, and came running in. I was so ashamed of myself.

"Erik!" she gasped my name and I wasn't sure if she was angry or concerned. She must have been more concerned about me, because she tended to me before dealing with the bile that was laying on the floor.

"Are you all right?"

"No, I feel horrible. I'm sorry for what I did."

"Don't be. You're sick. I should have known better than to give you that wine."

She cleaned up after me like cleaning up after a family dog. How embarrassed I was! But Christine did not leave me after that. No, she stayed by my side, tucking me in and making sure that I was all right.

"I see you went through your things." she said, obviously taking notice to the open bag of my belonging. "And what's this?"

I heard her picking up the book I had dropped, the pages softly being turned.

"I knew how much you loved your books, Erik." she said. "I did bring at least one or two."

"Why bother?" I cringed. "They are no longer any good to me. As you can tell, I'm blind. How am I supposed to read a book now?"

"Well, this book seems interesting. _The Tell Tale Heart and other eerie tales from Edgar Allen Poe."_

Oh, if I read those stories once, I read them a thousand times. His stories always held a moral, a strong one if that…..But remembering them and reading them were two different things. It just wouldn't be the same ever again.

"I used to read a lot." I said. "Almost all the time."

There was a long pause, before Christine said the words I never thought I'd hear.

"I'll read them to you, if you'd like?"

If I'd like? Oh, Christine, if you would read to me, I'd be the happiest man in the world. Though, the Edgar Allen Poe stories weren't suitable for a woman to be reading to me. Poe's stories were dreary and, well, dreary.

"That would be lovely, Christine." I said. "But you don't have to read me Edgar Allen Poe."

"And why not?" she giggled.

"His stories are dreary."

"Nonsense." she assured. "Nothing could be as dreary as those stories Raoul used to tell me on our picnics in my father's attic."

And then, my angel plopped down beside me. Do you believe it! Her body was actually rubbing up against my own! If I died right now, I'd die the happiest man in the world! Her scent was all around me, that wonderful rose scent that her body always smelled like. Her curls were teasing my shoulders as she leaned down to my level and got comfortable to read to me.

"Now, where were we?" she paused and I heard her flip a few pages in my book. "Ah, here we are. The Tell Tale Heart, by Edgar Allen Poe."

Her voice was like soft velvet as she began reading me the story I had only ever read myself. To hear her reading, was like hearing an angel speak to me.

"True! Nervous, very very dreadful nervous I had been and am; but why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses, not destroyed, not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell. How then, am I mad? Hearken! And observe how healthily, how calmly I can tell you the whole story."

I sighed, and my angel even placed my head into her lap. My cramps soon disappeared from mind as her wonderful, angelic voice filled my ears. Her fingers brushed a few strands of hair away from my face as she read to me the story I had only ever read by myself. And, believe it or not, no matter how uncomfortable and dreary the story might have been, my angel continued reading it to me until the very end. Or that's at least what I thought happened. I wasn't sure, because halfway through the story, I had fallen into a deep sleep. The next thing I remembered, was rolling over with warm blankets wrapped around my body.

My nightmares had stayed away all because of Christine reading to me. There were many times back at the opera house that I had read to her, but now, tonight, my angel had returned the favor. But when I came to, and her voice was no longer reading to me, that was when my aches came back to haunt me. I groaned as a dose of pain shot up through my ankle and into my groin. I ignored my body's need to scream, and tried to fall back asleep. Though, it was difficult with Ayesha's tail swaying back and forth in my face. I waved my hand to shoo her away, but her paws only whacked at my fingers. That's when I felt my angel's hands placing themselves over my shoulders.

"Erik?" she lightly shook me, as if only to wake me. Her voice sounded frightened. Had she been frightened over the story? Damn you Erik! That's what you get for letting an angel like her read something so dreary as that! I groaned, and gently rolled over, the blankets coming with me.

"Erik, wake up."

"Yes?" my voice was groggy, but she had heard me.

"Erik, we have to leave here now."

What? What was she talking about? Leave? We just got here not too long ago. Why did she want to leave so quickly? And at this time of night? It was still night-wasn't it?

"Leave?" I questioned. "Why? What's going on?"

"Monsieur Lavere just returned from having dinner with his friend. He said the guards are searching for us. It will only be a matter of hours before they reach the cottage."

"Where will we go?"

Christine placed her hand over my feverish forehead. I still had a terrible fever, and going out into the cold would only make it worse. I knew she didn't want to leave either, but she was concerned about my safety.

"Somewhere, Erik. We can't stay here."

She forced me to sit up, and slipped my jacket over my arms before wrapping a warm blanket around my body.

"Come, monsieur Lavere is letting us take one of his stallions."

She was pulling me to my feet, my legs aching with every step. Ayesha was even crying now, her meows getting far away.

"Christine." I forced myself from her grasp.

"Erik, don't." she warned. "You could fall."

"Don't leave Ayesha." I pleaded. "Let her crawl into one of my bags if you must, but don't leave her behind."

And I only moved again, when Christine assured me that Ayesha was with us. My body felt warm wrapped in the blanket that surrounded me, but when the doors opened and I was outside, the chill was colder than the cellars I had lived in for half my life…..I knew our next journey was going to be anything but pleasant.


	9. Chapter 9

**Erik's POV**

I knew once I was situated on the horse that this was going to be anything but a comfortable ride. I had Christine's blanket wrapped around my body as she was seated behind me, her arms wrapped protectively around my front. She coaxed me into laying against her chest to get comfortable, but as the horse began galloping away at high speed, that comfort instantly faded. Over and over again my body bounced up and down, the movements disturbing my stitches. I groaned and placed my hand over my chest, leaning forward as Christine's hands gripped my shirt.

"Erik, lean back." she warned.

But I couldn't. We needed to stop! I couldn't continue like this.

"Christine, please," I begged. "Stop. I need to stop."

"Erik, lean back."

She pulled me back against her body, only causing my body to ache even more.

"We have to get out of the mob's path. Once we are, I promise to stop."

But that couldn't come fast enough. For what seemed like hours, I laid there against Christine's body, feeling the agony of my stitches burning. The pain was so bad that I wanted to throw up, but I was glad I didn't. By the time my angel brought our ride to a halt, I was in so much pain, that when Christine hopped down, I, myself fell off the back of the horse. I heard Christine gasp, and came rushing to see if I were all right. I could feel grass beneath my body, tall, wispy grass.

"Erik, are you all right?"

My injuries were burning, and the only thing I could muster was a simple "hmm hmm" before closing my eyes. My angel placed something soft beneath my head, and promised to be back as soon as she was finished setting up shelter for the night. I lay there listening to her rummaging around, doing god knows what while I lay there completely helpless. Next thing I knew, I was being dragged towards something. I would have argued about being dragged, but I was too exhausted. What ever I was placed down on, it was soft, almost as soft as a bed. There was a pillow placed beneath my head and it was so soft that I sighed into it.

"Erik, are you comfortable?"

Once again I sighed, causing Christine to begin feeling around my injuries. My entire body was burning, my injuries pounding with agony. The moment her bare hand made contact with the wound on my chest, I arched my body in and upright position, screaming and whimpering.

"Your wounds are infected." she gasped. "You're freezing."

Indeed, I was. My body was burning hot, and yet, I was so cold.

"I'll get a fire going, Erik."

How did Christine know how to make a fire? I always imagined my angel to be more of a house wife than a mountain woman. I, myself could live off the land quite easily, but Christine-well, she was surprising me. Perhaps I didn't know my angel very well at all. When I felt heat, I realized that the fire must have been lit. Seconds later, Christine was at my side, rubbing my body and leaning her own against mine.

"Are you getting warm?" she asked.

"Yes," I murmured. "Thank you."

"We'll stay here until you're feeling better."

I was too weak to say another word, and therefore, fell asleep. When I woke, I heard birds chirping, and felt the warmth of the sun hitting my body. Was it daytime already? If it was, then why were we still here?

"Erik, are you up?" I heard Christine's voice a short distance away.

I sat up, only to feel my head pounding. Oh, when was I going to feel like my old self again?

"Why didn't you wake me?" I firmly asked. "We should have been gone hours ago."

"We're safe." she assured.

I heard her sitting down beside me and felt something smooth being placed into my hands.

"That's your breakfast."

How annoying it was to sit there fumbling around to find the fork she had placed on the plate for me. It was even more embarrassing to have to eat. I probably looked like an animal.

"Here," she took the fork from my fingers, slightly giggling. I should be mad over her giggles, but they warmed my heart. "Let me help you."

I opened my mouth each time I felt the fork at my lips. The food she had made wasn't eggs or French toast, but this oatmeal would do.

"How did you become such a woman of the land, Christine?" I asked in between bites.

Once more she giggled. "My papa took me camping once. He taught me how to start a fire and how to sleep beneath the stars." she paused. "It was one of the best nights of my life. We sat there for hours telling stories and gazing at the sky."

Her hand placed itself over my forehead, checking to see if my fever had passed. It had, and I felt a little better than I did last night.

"Erik, you need a permanent home." she began. "That way you'll be able to know where everything is and be able to live easier."

Oh, where was Christine going with this?

"We can't keep running from home to home. It just won't do, Erik."

"I don't need to keep burdening you with my blindness, Christine. I'm a dead man if I stay in Paris, and I'm dead if I'm abandoned by you. We both know what needs to happen."

Her hand placed itself over my own, a gesture I had been waiting for my entire life. This woman had spent the past several days rubbing my feet, soothing my pain, even holding my hand. But, I knew it was all out of pity.

"There is a way, Erik. I have a plan for you, but I need you to promise me that you'll listen to me and won't give up."

"I can promise you nothing, Christine." I paused, thinking about how to not disappoint her. "But…But I will try."

"I know if I leave Paris, Raoul will have every man searching for me all over the world. You wouldn't be safe. You need to leave Paris, Erik, but I cannot join you- not now anyway."

Was she being serious? She expected me to leave Paris-without her? What good would that do me? I'd be stumbling around the world blind and without a single idea about where I was! No, just kill me now!

"Erik, are you listening to me?"

"How can you leave me, Christine? What do you expect? To put me on a ship alone? If that's your plan then you should just give me my overdose of morphine now and be done with it."

"Erik, I will rejoin you." her hand was on my cheek now. "I promise. I just need time to tell Raoul. He is my fiancée, but you're my angel of music. You need me now more than anything."

She was right, Raoul had a right to see her again, and sadly, I had no right to deny her what she wanted. I had let her go! Damn me, I had let her and that fop go!

"A few nights ago, I was talking to Madame Giry. Her and Meg are leaving tomorrow to go to this place called "Coney Island." It's in New York city. She said that it's the land of opportunity for people like you. She even offered to look after you until I could return to your side."

"Madame Giry? Look after me?"

"Erik, please don't argue with me. I'm trying to get you out safely. In America, you could learn to live, and you would have a home where you could learn to walk about on your own."

If anything hurt, it was the fact that Christine was leaving me. Yes, she said she would return, but I knew that day would most likely never come. I had to face the facts that tomorrow I was being left to do things all on my own. Killing myself would do me no good, and so, I had to grow up. If I were going to spend the remainder of my life blind, I had to learn how to live blind.

"We'll travel the rest of the way to Calais, and then, tomorrow I'll see that you meet up with Madame Giry."

My body was still in pain, but Christine helped me stand up and onto the back of the horse. The ride today wasn't as uncomfortable as the one I experienced just yesterday. As long as her hands were placed around me, I was comfortable-in heaven actually. We rode all day, only stopping when I heard people talking and ship's horns blowing. In my mind, I pictured Calais, pictured it with every detail. In my mind I could see the ships leaving port, the people scurrying by the get to their destinations, even see the carriages passing us. If only I could really see it.

"Stay there, Erik." Christine told me as she hopped down off the horse. "I'm going to see about us getting a room for the night."

I stayed on top of our horse like Christine asked me to do, listening to the crowds of people passing by. When she retuned, she helped me down, and placed the staff into my hand.

"I'll carry the bags, Erik." she assured. "You just walk beside me."

I swayed the staff in front of me, scanning the ground as Christine's voice coached me.

"Step up."

I did, and heard a door opening.

"Okay, now, it's only three steps to the bed."

To see if she were telling the truth, I stepped three steps and felt to the right side. She was right, right there in front of me was a bed.

"Four more steps to the bathroom." I heard her say.

I was satisfied with the bed, and took a seat to rest for a few moments. The long ride on that horse had made my body sore. Moments later, Ayesha was at my side, curling her body around my legs.

"You've had a long day, Erik." Christine was right in front of me now, I could sense her. "Why don't you undress and relax?"

"What time is it?"

"Um….six."

I just nodded, and began fumbling with the buttons on my shirt.

"I'll get you a basin of water to wash up, if you'd like?"

That did sound nice. I might have looked like a corpse, but I didn't want to smell like one. I turned my back to her, awaiting the hot, soapy water to wash up with.

"Here, you wash up, and I'll get us something to eat."

It took a while to wash up on my own, but I did it without any help. I knew standing in the shower would be harder and it was a task I was not yet ready to complete on my own. I knew sitting down was the only way I would be washing myself for sometime to come. I would miss Christine when the time came for her to leave me in the morning. She had been so gentle with me, so gentle and loving. If only he had truly loved me….like a lover. But I knew better than to wish for anything like that. There must have been a spare bed next to my own, because a few hours later, I heard her crawling into it.

"Are you comfortable, Erik?" she asked.

"Yes." I snuggled my head into my pillow.

"Erik, since it's our last night together, could I ask you something?"

What could Christine want to ask me? And on our final night together.

"All right…."

"I know I should be grateful, but I can't be content with just being grateful. I wanted to know why you let me go?"

Why? Why? How could she ask me something like that? How could she question why I did what I did?

"Must you truly ask that?"

"But you could have held me as your captor, as your living wife."

"I loved you so much, Christine. I loved you so much that I couldn't do that to you. To look at you everyday and see sorrow would only break my heart."

"You truly mean it?"

"Would I lie? You think my love for you is nothing more than an obsession, but it's not. I have never loved anyone and will never love anyone as much as I love you, Christine Daae."

There was an awkward silence, and then nothing. Had I offended her? I waited for a few moments, waiting for her to say something, but there was nothing.

"Right." I murmured. "I wouldn't expect you to understand my feelings towards you. A monster like me wouldn't know how to love, right?"

But there was still silence. Instead of wasting my breath, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. I laid there awake, tossing and turning, thinking about what Christine had asked me. I wasn't sure what hour it happened, but I felt the covers being opened and someone crawling in beside me. I rolled over, feeling bare skin against my own….wait-bare skin! I gasped, moving away, almost falling out of bed.

"Christine?"

She pulled my bare chest against her own, my breath caught within my throat.

"Shhhh…" she placed her hand against my mouth to silence me.

"You have no clothes on." I gasped.

But before I could say another word, she kissed me. Our chests were pressed against one another's, her nipples hardening beneath my flesh. I sighed, oh how I sighed. This wasn't happening, Christine Daae was not kissing me. I was sure to wake any moment and be alone, but this bliss continued. Our tongues touched, our saliva meshed, our breaths mingled….bliss! Sweet bliss! My first kiss!

"Christine, wait…wait." I pulled away from her kiss, so many questions running through my mind. "Why? Why are you doing this? It isn't right."

"I've been tormented, Erik." she breathlessly confessed. "Tormented by my choice."

I wanted to make it stop, but it felt so wonderful. My hands were shaking as they wrapped around her bare back. I couldn't see her flesh, but it was so smooth, so milky….pure heaven! Her lips trailed down the side of my neck, sucking and biting my flesh.

"Oh, Christine…." I orgasmically called her name, blood rushing to my groin area.

I squeezed the sheets into my fists, my body lifting itself from the mattress as her lips trailed along my neck.

"Yes, oh….yes."

Her fingers then slipped themselves into my undergarments. The moment her hands made contact with my member, I cried her name into her soft curls. At last I was burying my face into the softness of Christine's curls. Never had I ever felt this before! It must have been dark, it just had to be! Why else would she be touching my scars? Touching my body?

"Touch me!" she begged. "Touch me!"

My hands fumbled blindly as they skimmed around for her breasts. I was becoming frustrated, but she was there to calm me down.

"I…I can't." I cried. "I'm…I can't see you. Oh, I'm terrible."

"Shhh…" her hand grabbed my own, placing it between her legs. Oh, I had never felt a woman like this before. I was so inexperienced that I didn't even know what to do.

"Touch me." she begged, kissing my ear. "Yes, Erik, touch me."

I did, hoping to satisfy her. She was stroking me with her hand, causing me to groan. No one had ever touched me like this before…no, only me.

"Yes, harder." I begged, pressing a kiss to the first bit of flesh I found, not particularly knowing which part of her it was on.

How embarrassing this was to be blind and inexperienced. My hands were fumbling around her body, hoping to find pleasurable spots to touch her in. She didn't seem to mind, because she was sighing just as much as I was.

"Christine…" I reached for her hand to stop touching me. I was on the brink of exploding, but she didn't heed my warning. Her soft hands continued to work on me, her legs wrapping around my waist. Then, I felt something I never thought I'd ever get to feel. She gently laid me back against the mattress and took me by surprise. Her body lowered onto my manhood, allowing it to sink deep into her body. She whimpered in discomfort, and I attempted to pull away, but she wouldn't let me.

"No, Erik, don't." she pleaded. "Just give me a moment."

Oh, my Christine, she was everything I ever imagined a woman to feel like. This new, warm sensation was driving me wild. In my mind I pleaded for her to move, to start writhing against me. When she did, my body reached heaven. I was so nervous, that I laid there letting her move on top of me. Oh, why was she doing this? Why was she allowing this monster to do this to her?

"Erik…"

She called my name as her pace quickened. I never wanted this to end, I never wanted this wonderful, pleasurable feeling to go away. I squeezed the blankets within my fists, holding off as long as I could. My body arched off the mattress, causing my member to sink even deeper into her body.

"Christine…"

We were kissing again, kissing and rolling around in the sheets as our bodies continued to move against one another. I thrust into her with a need to urgent to deny. I was so close, so close and yet, I didn't want to ruin her. Who was I to pour my hideous seed into her?

"Christine." I stopped moving, attempting to pull away from her, but Christine kissed me again.

"Don't, Erik." she begged. "Let us finish this."

Her words sounded like sweet honey, her mouth even tasted ten times better. I lay there, as still as could be as I drowned us both within our kisses. And then she began to writher again, hard this time, so hard and so fast that my climax happened with an exploding bliss. I gritted my teeth and held the bed sheets tight as my seed poured into her body. The heat from it all had caused her to finish as well, our bodies breathless and sweaty. I could not see my angel, but just feeling her heart racing against my own was enough to know that I was in heaven.

For a while after that, we just laid there in silence, kissing and running our hands gently over each other's bodies. I loved this woman with all my heart, more than anything in the world! She had given me her virginity, and I had given her my own in return. Not even a whore would take me, but Christine allowed me to make love to her as if I were a normal man! And that night, as we fell asleep, I nestled my head into her curls, inhaling the wonderful scent, and allowing my deformity to rest against them.

"I love you, Christine..."

And she happily sighed in return. Tonight, in Calais, I had gone from being in the darkness of hell, to the bliss of heaven. Then again, as long as Christine was with me, anywhere was heaven.

* * *

><p><strong>Fluff! Well, sort of? LOL. Please review, and if you haven't already, check out my newest story that just began yesterday. Love Lives On. I usually don't have two stories going at once, but the idea came to me the other day and I couldnt let it go. Enjoy these two stories everyone! I don't know where it's going to leave my recent updating, but I might be getting a second job soon...Which means most of my spare time will be down the tubes. But, what can I say? I need the mulah! I'll always try to find time to update though...it might not be every other day, but I'll work something out...this is my passion. Which reminds me, I'll be posting it when the time gets closer, but my first book is getting published and will be available on amazon . It's a children's book titled "The Escapades of Augie Atwell." Not Phantom, but very interesting all the same. Should be out at the end of July...it's in the company's hands as we speak. I'll post more info as the time gets closer...Ok, enough ranting for now...<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Erik's POV**

I was in heaven. Surely, this had to be heaven. Christine and I had made love. Yes, I might have been blind, but I made love to Christine Daae. That night as I slept soundly beside her, I began thinking about the past few hours spent with my angel. Surely she had a feeling deep within her, a feeling worth more than pity. My angel wouldn't have shared something so special with me if she didn't at least love me a little. Love, that word! That wonderful, strange word. I had never associated love with anything due to the fact that no body ever loved me. But Christine-this woman-this angel! She had done something I shall never forget. Tonight had been the best night of my entire existence, but what frightened me more than ever was what tomorrow would bring? She couldn't possibly return to her boy now, could she? My attitude towards life had changed and all because for the first time in my life, someone had showed me a tiny bit of compassion.

I had made up my mind. In the morning, I would ask her to join me for breakfast. Then, once we were comfortable, I would ask her kindly to go to Coney Island with me. I could be her lover, couldn't I? In time, she would surely learn to love me as I loved her. Whether the lights were on or off when she was making love to me, I wasn't sure, but either way, she had gotten over her fear and made love to me on her own accord. Christine had made love to _me_!

It was as if making love to her was my cure for nightmares. For the first time in my life, I slept soundly, without a single memory haunting my sleep. I awoke feeling refreshed and ten times better the following morning. There were birds chirping outside the window, so it had to be morning. My arms were still wrapped around Christine, or so I thought they were. I soon found out that Ayesha had taken over Christine's spot when I felt a ball of fur beneath the blankets. My angel's spot was cold and empty, making it obvious that she was most likely in the shower or wandering around our room. Perhaps last night had been a dream? I felt beneath my blankets, only to notice that I was still naked. No, last night was not a dream.

I wrapped my arms around Ayesha, and snuggled back into my pillow, wishing it were Christine's curls instead.

"Oh, Ayesha," I sighed. "If only you knew how breathtaking last night was for me. My angel let me touch her as if I were any other man."

Ayesha's tail hit me in the face, her fur tickling me.

"You may be jealous of her, Ayesha, but you will have to learn to accept Christine. She is an angel straight from heaven."

I was saying everything out loud, and yet, I was surprised that I didn't even get one giggle out of where ever Christine was roaming around. Curious, I stretched and rolled over.

"Christine?" I called her name, hoping to get an answer, but I never got one. Where was she?

"Christine?" I called her name a little louder. "Are you ready to go?"

Still, no answer. I was beginning to get a little worried, but I stayed calm, rising to my feet and grabbing my staff that was placed at my bedside. Curious, I felt around until I reached the other bed. The night before, Christine had been laying in it before crawling in with me. But now, as my fingers ran over the covers and sheets, I knew by their smoothness, that she had made it. No! I was in a panic now, moving about until I bumped into my belongings. I prayed that hers would be next to my own, but they weren't! No, the only bags here were the ones filled with my belongings. She left! Christine left me all alone.

My heart ached when I realized that she was not here. She must have gotten up before the sun rose and left me. What was it that made her leave? Perhaps she woke and saw the demon she had made love to. Maybe she did have the lights off after all. Ashamed! That's what she was feeling, ashamed that she had given herself to a monster. I collapsed against my bed and sobbed as I realized that that tiny bit of hope of her loving me would never become a reality. I would have sat there and sobbed all day, but Ayesha was circling me frantically, pushing her body up against my legs.

A few moments later, I heard a ship horn blowing from outside.

"The ship!"

I wasn't sure what time I was supposed to be meeting Madame Giry, but I couldn't miss my only chance at freedom. How badly I wanted Christine to be here to help me dress, but I knew I couldn't expect her to walk through that door. I was alone now, and so, I had to learn to live in darkness, or die trying. I reached out for my bag of clothing, reaching my hand into the sack, pulling out what ever garments I had inside. From memory, I tried remembering how each piece of clothing felt. I surely didn't want to put on my jacket before a shirt. My shirts were always softer than my jackets, like a silk feeling. I felt around the pile until I found a soft, satin fabric. I slipped it on, keeping myself calm enough to button each button. I made sure to stay patient as my fingers glided over each button to fasten the garment. When my shirt was on, I felt around until I touched my vest. When my vest was over my shoulders, I did the same to fasten that as well.

While I was busy situating myself into my trousers, Ayesha fetched my shoes, bringing them to the bed and dropping them at my feet. Dressing myself never took this long before, but I knew I'd eventually get the hang of it once I did it a hundred times or so. I hated not being able to see myself in the mirror, but however I looked would have to do until we reached Coney Island.

"We need to find Madame Giry, Ayesha." I told her as I swung my bag of belongings over my shoulder.

Ayesha stayed by my feet as we left the room we were in. Christine said I was to meet her at the docks, but finding the correct place was a little harder than I first thought it to be. Especially since Christine was supposed to help me find her. People pushed me, I fell three times and to make matters worse, I had no idea on where I was going. I figured if I fell into the bay, I would just let myself drown.

"Erik!" I heard Madame Giry's voice within the crowd and stopped. When I felt a hand place itself on my shoulder, I sighed in relief.

"I was wondering when you were going to show up." she spat. "Come, the ship is about to leave."

The old woman pulled me along, Ayesha jumping up into my arms.

"Madame, have you seen Christine?" I frantically asked. "Is she with you?"

"No, I have not seen her. I thought she was with you?"

"She was, but this morning I woke and she was gone."

"She is probably where she belongs." the woman assured. "Now come along before we miss our ride."

Madame Giry had been my caregiver for years. The woman helped me to the opera house when I was too hurt to do so. If not for her, I'd probably still be with those monstrous gypsies. The opera house had been my playground, and then, my home. If not for Madame Giry, that sanctuary would have never been known to me. She had been the one to deliver all of my letters to the managers of the opera house, the ones demanding my twenty thousand francs a month, even the ones that demanded Christine to be the lead role. Madame Giry had always been kind to me, but those times were long gone. Christine told me she would care for me until my angel could return, but Madame Giry did none of those things.

Getting me on the ship was the extent of her help. I was placed into a room all alone. It smelled like raw sewage, and the woman only told me once where everything was. When I asked her where the closet was, she simply yelled at me and told me that I should have listened to her the first time. If Christine were here, she would have unpacked my things for me-Oh, but I couldn't think like that! She was gone, and I was on my own. Her care only became worse once the ship was out to sea. Most days I would lay there alone in the uncomfortable bed in my room. Madame Giry and her daughter Meg were in a room on the end of the hall, only coming in at meal times to drop off the slop I was to eat. When I complained about how terrible the meals were, Madame Giry only snapped at me and told me that I was ungrateful.

"If I must eat," I told her one evening. "Could you at least help me?"

But she only laughed. "You're a grown man, Erik. Learn to eat on your own."

When she left, I attempted to eat, but only wound up having my meal fall to the floor along with the plate it was on. I missed Christine. I missed how she massaged my sore feet, I missed the way she giggled at my ignorance. I even missed her stories. For nearly three weeks, this ship ride from hell only got worse. At night, it would take me thirty minutes to dress for bed. When I had to urinate, I usually pissed on myself instead of in the chamber pot because I couldn't see where I was aiming. I even had to administer the eye drops into each eye, sometimes, the medicine would land in the holes where my nose should have been, causing me to sneeze. Oh, it was horrible!

Then, one morning something extraordinary happened. I had fallen asleep the night before, my world dark and completely black. I always fell asleep with Ayesha curled up in my arms, and together we would rest. Every morning at the same time, Madame Giry would barge in with my breakfast. The only reason I knew she was even entering was because I would hear the door creaking open. But on this morning, something was different. I was laying there with my eyes shut, resting with Ayesha in my arms. When I heard the door opening, I rolled over and opened my eyes, only to see a shadow walking past me! Everything was still black, but I could see Madame Giry's outline!

"Madame! I can see you!"

"What? You're blind." she assured. "Your eyes still aren't focusing on anything. No, Erik, you're going mad."

And then she left me. How could she not believe that I could see her outline. She might have been dark, but at least I saw her. I thought that perhaps my sight was coming back to me, but it stayed like this, nothing but shadows. I soon came to notice that in order for me to be able to spot the shadows, the room had to be lit. At night, when it was dark, I could see nothing because everything was black.

"I miss Christine, Ayesha." I sighed one night as I laid there in bed. "We'll be docking tomorrow, and yet, I can't get her out of my mind."

Ayesha meowed and I knew she was trying to make me feel better, but-Oh, having her here wasn't like having Christine with me. I yearned for her touch, I yearned to have her laying here beside me. If only I had one last chance to apologize to her for how ugly I was. I would tell her how sorry I am, and how much I loved her anyway.

"Why Christine?" I cried into the darkness of the night. "You knew how hideous I was beforehand and yet, you still crawled in bed with me."

Why would she, of all people make love to me and leave in the morning? Did she not care if I made it to my destination? Perhaps she didn't. Perhaps making love to me was her way of saying _"now stay out of my life for good." _I wasn't sure, but I couldn't get the thought of her returning to me out of my head. When we docked at Ellis Island, Madame Giry pulled me along through customs, forcing me to sign my name as Erik Giry-her brother. She told me it would keep everyone off my back and there would be no assumptions when people would notice that I was staying with her and her daughter.

As I followed them, I could spot thousands of shadows in front of me. I could smell strange fragrances I had never smelled before, even hear strange sounds and screams of excitement echoing in the distance. What was this place? People laughed at me as I passed them, probably pointing at the blind freak walking about. If Christine were here she wouldn't-Oh, why was I thinking about her again? She's not here, Erik! Stop thinking about her!

And just like on the ship, Madame Giry placed me in my own separate room in the building she now called _"home." _From what I could tell, the place had two floors. On the first floor there was a living area and a kitchen. The second floor had two bedrooms, and finally, the third was an attic- or, in this case, my new quarters. Instead of allowing me to find comfort on the first or second floor to ease my life, Madame Giry stuck me on the third floor to be locked away from the world like an embarrassing family member. I nearly fell down the stairs while attempting to climb them to get to my new room.

It was drafty, with windows surrounding it instead of walls. All the brightness in the room cast the shadows of a wardrobe closet, a desk, a bed, even a piano. It would have to do for now, until I could get out on my own.

"Do Meg and I a favor, Erik, and don't be trying to come down stairs as much." Madame Giry said. "You'll fall."

"And what am I to do up here…." I growled. "In this prison?"

"You owe Meg and I for everything we've done for you!" she angrily snapped. "And you have the galls to call it a prison!"

"If Christine were here-"

"Well she's not, Erik! She doesn't love you! She's marrying her boy and thinking about other things more important than you!"

This was like a stake to my heart. Yes, every word was true, but I didn't want to believe it.

"You lie." I was fighting back tears as I said every word.

"I speak the truth, Erik. You've wasted your life obsessing over someone who would never love you back. This is your new life now and like it or not, you will be living it up here alone."

I heard the door slam shut, making it obvious that I was alone. Ayesha purred and circled my body. She was letting me know that I was not alone, but I couldn't help but feel like I was. For the longest time, I stood there in front of one of the windows gazing out into the darkness of being blind. When I heard the door opening again, I turned to spot the shadow of another woman walking in. It wasn't Madame Giry, so it obviously had to be Meg.

"What do you want?" I snapped. "This is my room."

"I…I thought you could use a little help unpacking." she murmured.

"I don't need your help! I don't need anyone's help!"

"You needed Christine's."

How dare she talk about Christine in front of me! How dare she!

"Please, just leave, Meg."

"Well, why don't you stand at your wardrobe closet and I'll hand you your shirts? It be a lot easier if you organized your colors. That way you'll know what color your wearing."

She was right, I did need her help. I sighed, and used my staff to get me over to my wardrobe closet. Once there, she began handing me my shirts.

"Two white ones." she said, handing them to me. I placed them to the left side of the closet, placing it into my memory. I had the white ones first then my blacks, then reds and then my trousers. This way, I wouldn't go insane walking around wondering if I matched or not.

"Are you going to remember where each color is?" she asked.

This girl was trying my patients. The only reason I even allowed her to help me unpack was because I needed someone to tell me which shirt was which color.

"Yes, yes!" I snapped. "I'm organized now, so please leave!"

"But don't you need help unpacking the rest of your stuff?"

"Just go! This is my damn room! Go unpack your own stuff!"

I heard her gasp, before the door slammed shut. I didn't want Meg, nor did I want Madame Giry! I wanted Christine, and only Christine….but my angel wasn't here, she was a million miles away. A million miles away and with another man. I was here, alone, blind and with a broken heart, one that could only be mended by Christine's love. But I wasn't going to give up hope that she would return to me one day….I hoped she would return. She did promise to return to me when she could…..but then again, she could have lied to me and I would have never known.

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><p><strong>Please review everyone! Oh, and If you haven't already started reading my LNDPOTO story titled "Love Lives On" feel free to do so. It's something to keep you occupied until the next chapter to this story is up. Thanks again!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Erik's POV**

For days I laid there counting the endless hours of loneliness. Her name ran through my mind every second of everyday. My first few nights in my new home were the worst. I would wake in cold sweats, screaming her name like a madman. I tossed and turned, horrible thoughts racing through my mind. What if Raoul found out about what she and I did? What if he was torturing her right now? So many horrible thoughts, and yet, I couldn't get them out of my head. During the day, I would sit there on my windowsill, petting Ayesha or doing nothing at all. My life had become a meaningless pool of loneliness. What was my purpose now? What was ever my purpose in life? I had been here two whole days, and I hadn't even the stomach to try and play the piano. I knew by finding out that I couldn't would only send me flying straight into a deep depression. Not that I wasn't in one at the moment.

When I attempted to walk downstairs, I fell, ending up on the landing near the first step. I couldn't stay in that dreaded room all hours of the day, but after my fall, Madame Giry insisted that I stay where I belonged. I needed a place that was all on one floor, a home that was easy to walk around in. Yes, I had become used to my attic bedroom, but this was not a home. I wanted to be able to walk around my kitchen, know where everything was, take a stroll in my garden. This attic would do for now, but I would not become its prisoner.

"Christine!" I cried her name unknowingly as my body tossed in the sheets of my bed one evening nearly a week after our arrival. I had seen her! She was running in the woods, bleeding from her stomach as if someone had stabbed her. I was trying to run to her, trying my best to call out, but she didn't hear me. It was as if I were a ghost. Then, I saw Raoul! He was chasing after her, a bloody knife in hand.

"You can run, Christine!" he spat. "But you can't hide! Your monster isn't here to protect you now! You like fucking dead corpses do you!"

"Christine!" I called her name again, hoping she would hear me. Raoul was getting closer and closer to her. My angel tripped over a rock, and landed on her stomach. There was no escape for her now. I watched in horror as Raoul began stabbing my angel over and over again.

"Christine!"

A crash of thunder dragged me from my dream. I shot up in bed, my body covered in sweat. I could hear rain pelting against my window as thunder violently crashed against our home. I took a few breaths before reaching over to turn on the gas lamp that was on my night table. When the light was finally visible, so were the shadows of the furniture in my room.

"Oh, Ayesha," I cried, sobbing into my hands. "I miss Christine so much. All I do is dream about her."

Ayesha curled up in my arms in an attempt to calm me down. But what if those things were truly happening to my angel? No! I couldn't think like that. Christine made her choice. She was probably married by now-right? I knew the only thing that was going to keep my mind occupied was if I got a job. If I did, then I would have a purpose each day. It would even bring in a steady paycheck. With money coming in, I could find myself a suitable home, one that would make my life a lot easier. But what kind of job could I possibly do? I was blind, and without the ability to see, what could I do? Perhaps I still had it in me to do simple magic tricks? I needed to do something to make my way in life. I guess I would find out.

The following morning, I went to my wardrobe closet and dressed in my finest suit. For the past few days I had been settling with just wearing a shirt and trousers because of how easy it had been to put them on. Dressing in my suit was another story. Attempting to tie a bowtie blind was a task that took nearly thirty minutes to complete. I didn't care, I was blind and in need of a job. If I couldn't look my employer in the eyes, the least I could do was look respectable.

"How do I look?" I questioned Ayesha as I stood there adjusting my shirt.

My kitten purred and I took that as a good sign. After placing on my mask, I grabbed my walking staff and headed out the attic door. I knew from memory that there was exactly five steps until I reached the staircase. Today, however, I gently stepped down each stair, counting them as I went along. I would need to know how many stairs there were to climb for when I returned home later in the evening. Thirteen steps, there were exactly thirteen steps to reach the second floor. This was the floor that held the bedrooms. I counted my steps until I reached the final staircase that would lead me to the first floor. There were twenty steps, and then fifteen stairs to the bottom.

This had been the first time I had actually been able to make it to the first floor without falling. It even made me proud. If Christine were here, she'd probably be proud too. I could smell something cooking from the kitchen, and heard Madame Giry talking to her daughter. I followed her voice until she was only a few feet away. From a distance, I spotted her shadow standing beside Meg. I wasn't sure, but there was something long placed in the center of the kitchen. Guessing it to be the table, I made my way to it in need to take a seat for a few moments.

"What in God's name are you doing down here?" the old woman asked. "I thought I told you to stay in the attic?"

I found a chair and pulled it out, but fell flat on my butt when I attempted to sit down. I was still working out the strings when it came to judging depth and how far away the shadows were. In this case, that shadow being my seat.

"See what I mean, Erik!" she scolded. "You're going to kill yourself."

"And if I don't try to do things on my own, I'll never learn how to live like this."

I used my staff to stand up and Meg gently took my arm to guide me into my seat.

"Would you like some tea, Erik?" the young girl asked. "I made some."

"Yes, that would be nice."

I never thought Meg to be the caring kind, but I was obviously wrong. At least she was trying to help me, unlike Madame Giry who only wanted to scold me every time I attempted to do something. A smooth, hot glass was placed in between my hand before Meg's voice filled my ears again.

"It's right in front of you, Erik." she said. "Be careful not to burn yourself."

"Meg, would you stop treating Monsieur Fantome like a baby?"

"Don't yell at her, Madame!" I growled. "She's only trying to help."

"Help? Did she help dress you this morning, monsieur?"

"No, why?"

"Because for a blind man you're dressed like you're going out on a date."

"I'm going to look for work."

The room fell silent, and Madame Giry burst out laughing. How dare she laugh at me! Oh, how this taunting hurt me more than anything. Just because I was blind didn't mean that I had to lay down and die!

"A job?" she laughed. "Who on earth would give you a job? You're blind! Just where do you think you'll be looking for work? And better yet, how will you know where to go?"

I slammed my hand down on the table, causing droplets of my scolding tea to burn my palm.

"I can see shadows! I can see your outline, Madame!"

"Your eyes still aren't focusing on anything, Erik. Just how do you expect to make your way in this world?"

"Maybe being a magician."

"You mean showing your face? That's all you'll be able to do. Let onlookers gaze at your hideous face in return for a paycheck."

Oh, how my blood was boiling!

"I need money! I need to get out of here! I need a home that's only one floor and small enough so I can know where everything is."

"You mean blind proof? There are plenty of those homes in the city. A home where hundreds of blind men live together."

"I will not go to the insane asylum! I will buy myself a place to stay, and then, when Christine returns-"

"She is not going to return to you, Erik!" the woman screamed. "She hates you! She pities you! What would ever make you think that she would return to care for you? If you wish to leave here, then you better get a job and get out soon. I won't be caring for you like a little baby. Yes, I promised Christine to care for you until she returned, but she isn't going to!"

"Mother," Meg intervened, but I knew it would do her no good. Madame Giry was not someone to quarrel with. Once she made up her mind, there was no changing it.

"Silence, Meg! If monsieur thinks the grass is greener on the other side then let him learn his lesson."

When I couldn't take another moment spent with Madame Giry, I stood up and began walking towards the door.

"Yes, that's right, Erik, go out into the real world. You'll be back in a few minutes, I would bet my life on it."

The world was indeed cruel. The moment I stepped outside, I didn't have a clue on where I was or where I should go, so I walked. The streets were empty right until I reached the boardwalk. Once there, those thousands and thousands of shadows appeared, pushing me if I made the slightest contact with one.

"Watch where you're going!" they would scream. "Get out of our ways!"

I was shoved from side to side, landing up against a wall one time. I groaned in pain, but no one seemed to care. When I attempted to stand up straight, I was pushed again, this time, my walking staff had been thrown from my grasp. I heard it hit the ground a few yards away, but I couldn't see a thing. In an attempt to find it, I got down on my hands and knees to feel around, only causing the passing people to step on my hands. I yelped and pulled away, being shoved and yelled at once more.

Was there not a single person who cared enough to help me?

"Move it, ya freak!" one man screamed.

"Get off the ground, beggar!"

So many people were yelling at me, but then, there was one voice that stood out in the crowd, one that lifted my spirits.

"Hey, have some compassion! "

It was the voice of a woman. When I dared to look up, I noticed a dark figure pushing past the crowd to get to me. It was most definitely a woman by her slim outline, but she was wearing some sort of costume with long things sticking out from it…feathers perhaps? I wasn't sure, for I could only see her dark outline.

"Here, let me help you up." I was lifted to my feet, my walking staff placed back into my hand. She even dusted off my clothing with her hands.

"Here, let's get you out of this crowd. They can be real mean to people like us."

The woman left my side, walking ahead. She obviously had no clue that I was blind. When people began to shove me again, she turned around, dumfounded over why I was stumbling around like a blind man.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, grabbing my arm and pulling me from the crowd.

This had made me extremely angry. I had so much anger pent up inside of me from this morning, that I let it finally slip from my body.

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? I'm fucking blind! That's what's wrong with me! Did you think I carried around this staff for laughs!"

"I'm sorry, monsieur." she gasped. "I didn't know."

"Please, just leave me alone. I've been having the morning from absolute hell."

"Where's your family?" she questioned. "How could they allow you to walk around without an escort?"

"I don't have any family. At the moment I'm living with two women who could care less about my well being. I had no choice but to come out looking for a job on my own."

"A job?" she questioned. "What could you possibly do?"

"I can do magic tricks."

"You must be joking, right?"

This angered me even more. I knew I could do them, and yet, this woman didn't believe me! I groaned as I pulled a coin from my pocket. I knew how to do fluid motions with my hands without having to see it. I waved the coin in front of her, before flicking my hand and making it disappear. The woman gasped in amazement, my trick had obviously worked.

"You really are telling the truth."

"Yes, now if you'll excuse me, I have to be on my way."

I turned to begin walking, when her voice caused me to stop.

"I know where you can get a job!"

I turned, still seeing the shadow standing there.

"I work for a freak show on the other end of the boardwalk. My boss, he's always looking for new acts. Surely a blind magician would bring in more crowds."

"And he would hire me?"

"Yes, especially if I put in a good word for you."

Why was this woman treating me with kindness? She didn't know me and I didn't know her. We were complete strangers. But, perhaps here in Coney Island, freaks treated other freaks like family.

"I'll escort you there." she offered. "If you're still interested in the job?"

This was my only chance to make money and to get out of Madame Giry's house. I needed this job, and I knew if I denied this girl's offer, I would be denying myself a life.

"All right." I finally said.

The woman interlocked her arm with my own, and we began walking towards her workplace.

"Thank you, for helping me." I said. "I thought I was going to be in that horrible crowd forever."

"You're very welcome. You're not the first person I've helped. For some odd reason, these human beings love coming to see the freak shows, and yet, when a freak is in need on the streets they simply make matters worse for them. Horrible, really."

There was something odd about this woman's accent. Surely, she wasn't from Coney Island. No, she sounded like she belonged in England.

"You were born here?" I questioned.

"No, London." she answered, speaking loudly over the screams coming from the attractions we were passing. "Came here four years ago."

"And what's your-" I paused, trying to think of the right term. "Affliction?"

She giggled. "Affliction? Come now, monsieur, we don't call our abilities afflictions. Yes, some of the freaks here do have physical problems with their appearance, but most of us have special abilities and talents."

Oh, how I liked this girl. She reminded me of Christine in a way. It was nice just to have another being laugh and joke within my presence.

"I came to Coney Island because of the way I liked to dress. I love wearing colorful feathers. Back home, people called me a freak. When I came to Coney Island, I soon learned just how much of an acrobat I really was."

"How many others are there like us?" I asked.

"Thousands. At the show I perform in there are fifty. There's everything from a strong man, to Siamese twins."

"What's your name?"

"Nymphadora, but everyone knows me as Miss Fleck. How about you, monsieur? Surely you're not from around here?"

"No, Paris France."

"Paris? How wonderful. What's your name?"

"Erik."

"Erik?" she questioned. "That's a nice name and all, but if you're going to perform, you need a stage name. They introduce me as "_Miss Fleck, half bird, half woman_." No one is going to be impressed by a magician named "Erik."

"Well, it's my name." I barked. "Sorry it's not magnificent like yours."

"What's with the mask?"

I could see the shadow of Fleck's hand moving towards my mask, but I snatched it in my grasp before she could remove the leather garment.

"Touch my mask again, and I'll snap your wrist in half."

"You don't have to be all sentimental about it, monsieur. If you have some kind of deformity-"

"It's none of your business, girl!"

"Wait, if you're blind, how did you-"

"I can see shadows." I said. "I've only been blind a few weeks. An accident back in Paris left me this way."

Before I could say another word, the shadow of something big appeared before my very eyes. A tent perhaps?

"We're here." she said. "Come, I'll introduce you to our boss."

This was it, this was my chance to prove that I could work. I needed this job, and I was going to do everything in my power not to screw it up, for this could be the only chance given to me. Without this job, I would be stuck living with Madame Giry for the rest of my life, or worse, locked away in an insane asylum.

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><p><strong>Miss Fleck to the rescue! Please review! Thanks everyone!<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**Erik's POV**

I was brought inside a tent, dark shadows scattered about. It was very loud, everyone was obviously working. Miss Fleck pulled me along, until we were in front of the boss. I couldn't see anything more than his outline, but from what I noticed, he was an extremely tall man.

"Monsieur D'Loofe, I found a man looking for a job. He is a great magician, monsieur."

"What's wrong with his eyes?"

"Oh, he's blind."

"A blind magician?" he questioned. "Well, that does seem interesting. All right, magician, show me what you can do."

Without a word, I began doing tricks, hoping that my blindness wouldn't cause me to mess up. I made a coin disappear, pulled a cloth from an empty hand, even did a simple card trick. All of these had turned out like they were supposed to.

"Impressive, magician." he growled. "Now take off your mask."

Why? Why was it always about the mask? My body quivered as I refused, but monsieur D'Loofe wouldn't give me the job without seeing my face.

"What are you hiding?" he impatiently asked. "Remove your mask or else you won't have this job."

"I'm warning you, monsieur." I said. "It's not something you will want to see."

"Remove it!"

And so I did. I waited for him to scream, but instead, he gasped as if he had just found his new money maker.

"Ah, this is what I've been looking for! Oh, you are so hideous! People would pay out their ears to see someone like you."

"Monsieur, what about-" Miss Fleck paused, her voice trembling with fear. I knew my face had frightened her. It was meant to frighten everyone. "The magic tricks?"

"The hell with that! His face is something to be gazed upon by paying customers! No one will want to see magic tricks when they can see…." he paused, thinking about what to call me. "The Living Corpse! Yes, it's perfect! The walking dead of Coney Island!"

"No!" I snapped. "I will not show my face to the scum of Coney Island!"

I turned to start walking, when monsieur D'Loofe stated the obvious.

"Who else will give you a job, monsieur? Surely you'd be making the biggest mistake of your life by refusing to take this job. I'll pay you ten dollars a day, twenty if you allow yourself to sit in a coffin."

My heart was aching. He didn't care that I was blind and could perform magic tricks. No, all he cared about was that I looked exactly like a corpse. Perhaps Coney Island was no different than Paris after all. But what could I do? Twenty dollars a day was something so foolish to give up. With making twenty dollars a day, I could be out of Madame Giry's house in no time. This was something I had to do.

"I….I accept, monsieur."

This made him extremely happy. He was so happy about all the money he was going to make off of me, that he didn't even care to ask what my real name was. No, all he knew was that I was his new headliner-_the Living Corpse_.

"Be here first thing tomorrow morning!" he snapped. "You, my money making friend are going to be a star…all mine!"

And so, with a heavy heart, I began to walk away.

"Erik, wait!" Miss Fleck was at my side within a matter of moments, interlocking her arm with my own again. I pulled away from her, disgusted over her and her boss.

"Just leave me be!"

"Erik, you don't know your way back home. Let me help you."

"I've had enough of your help! Your help got me nowhere but on display!"

"Erik, I didn't know he was going to do that, honest." she paused. "I…I didn't even know you looked like that."

"Was it hideous enough for you? Now you know why I haven't any family!"

"If it makes you feel any better, I've seen worse."

This took me by surprise. She had seen worse? How could anything be more hideous than me?

"Really?"

"Yes, but they work at other fairs on Coney Island. Monsieur D'Loofe has been searching for someone like you for years. What happened to you? If you don't mind me asking?"

"God simply decided to have some fun, that's what happened."

"I beg your pardon?"

"In other words, I was born this way."

Once again, the woman round up enough courage to interlock her arm with my own. She obviously wasn't giving up on escorting me back home.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I know a great place. Feltman's serves just about the best hotdog this side of Coney Island."

"Hot what?" I questioned, never hearing such names before.

She giggled. "A hotdog. It's really good."

As much as I wanted to be left alone, I didn't want to return home. Not yet anyway. I'd rather be in the presence of Miss Fleck, than Madame Giry.

"All right."

"Good, I'm starving."

I wasn't sure where this girl was taking me, but a few moments later, she was situating me with sitting down on some sort of bench. Behind me, I could hear seagulls cawing and people laughing. I could even smell salt water…was this the beach?

"Stay here." she told me. "I'm going to order our lunch."

"You don't have to buy me lunch." I argued. "I can pay."

"No, it's on the house, Erik. It's the least I can do after the ordeal with monsieur D'Loofe."

I wanted to continue arguing, but I knew she had made up her mind and wasn't changing it. When I saw her approaching me again, she placed something down in front of me, her hand taking my own and placing it down on the warm bun.

"Your hotdog is right there, Erik."

"Thank you."

"You know, Erik, you could stay with me if you'd like? I live with two other freaks; Dr. Gangle and Mr. Squelch."

"Oh, that's very kind of you, but the whole reason I wanted a job was to make enough money to get out on my own. I'm not comfortable living with strangers."

"Understandable. I'm just trying to help."

"Thank you, and you've done a wonderful job already."

"Do you think you'll be all right living on your own?"

I bit into my hotdog, savoring the taste of this delicious new treat.

"I'm hoping not to be alone for long."

"Oh, you're looking for a woman?" she questioned. "There's a lot of people who come to Coney Island in search of love."

"No, I…I already have a woman." I said. "I'm waiting for her to come here."

"Is she your wife?"

"If only she were. No, we're more like good friends."

"Well, are you in love with her?"

"Yes, extremely. It's so hard to live without her."

"And does she love you?"

Did Christine really love me? I wasn't sure.

"I…I don't know."

"Oh, mysterious love. Those kinds of relationships are the best."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

"The mystery is anything but fun, it hurts."

"Have you ever told her how you feel?"

"Only everyday that I was with her. Though, I believed she thought it to be obsession and nothing more."

"You should tell her. Perhaps if she knew how you felt now that you're apart, she'd realize what she has."

I just nodded, and finished my meal.

"So, what's so great about Coney Island?" I asked. "What makes it so special?"

"The attractions." she said. "They are wonderful, and unlike anything ever seen before. It's such a wonderful place."

"If only I could see it."

"You do, in your head." she assured. "You smell the scents, hear the exciting screams. You can see it in your head."

I thought a lot about what Miss Fleck said, all the way home. When I was back in front of the front door, Miss Fleck opened it for me.

"I'll come by tomorrow in the morning to escort you to your first day of work." she said.

"Oh, you don't have to do that." I said.

"At least let me do it for the first day. That way you can count the steps and remember how to get there."

I didn't like being babied, but I agreed. At least for the first day I would need help.

"All right."

"I'll be here first thing in the morning."

"Ok."

"Do you need help to your room?"

"No, I'll manage."

And with that, we parted. I began my trek up the stairs, when I heard Madame Giry.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little lost boy. Come home empty handed did you?"

I paused in place, my hand squeezing my staff.

"I got a job."

"Really? Magic is it?"

"No, something else."

"Showing off your face then?" she teased.

Oh, she was making me so angry!

"It's a paycheck, and a one way ticket out of here."

"And you have yourself an escort whore walking you around? What payment are you giving her?"

"She is a friend!"

"And Christine is still coming back, right?"

This was the final straw! I ignored her, and continued up the stairs, with Madame Giry taunting me the whole way up, until her voice disappeared once I slammed my door shut.

"That vile woman! How dare she taunt me like that!"

I plopped down on my bed, tears already streaming down my cheeks. Oh, how I missed Christine with my whole heart. Ayesha crawled into my lap, already trying to comfort me.

"Oh, Ayesha, I miss Christine. I had such a terrible day. I thought I'd be able to impress people with my magic, but the truth of it all is that everyone wants to see nothing more than my face. A living corpse! That's what I'm to become."

I laid back against my pillows, staring endlessly up at my ceiling. How dark and dreary it was.

"Miss Fleck told me I should tell Christine how I feel. How could I ever tell her that I love her without sounding like an obsessive feign?"

Just then, a knock occurred at my door. If this was Madame Giry again, I'd simply kill the woman.

"Go away!" I snapped. "Haven't you done enough damage!"

"Erik? It's Meg."

Meg? What did she want? I sat up, and made my way to the door using my staff to lead the way. Once my hand was around the cool knob, I opened it, the smell of bath soaps surrounding me. Oh, how I missed Christine's rosy scent.

"What do you want?" I kindly asked.

As much as I wanted to be cruel to Meg, I couldn't for the simple fact that she has been the only one in this household who has been kind to me.

"I heard mother yelling at you. I just wanted to come and make sure that you got back to the house all right?"

"Yes, I had a woman escort me here."

"So you got a job?"

I stepped aside, letting the girl enter my room. It was the right thing to do.

"Thank you, Erik."

I felt her move past me and I closed the door.

"Yes, I got a job today." I said. "It might not have been the one I was hoping for, but I can't stay here any longer and without money, I'm trapped."

"I'm sorry if mother has been a little harsh on you. It's simply not like her to treat you like this."

"I know, but don't apologize for her actions, Meg."

"You don't deserve the abuse."

I stood at my window, bracing its sill with my hands.

"I deserve everything I get. Even Christine left me. I thought that perhaps she could love me just the slightest bit, but even she left me."

"I'm sorry Erik, I-"

"She's coming back though!" I interrupted. "She promised me!"

"I know how much you miss Christine, Erik. I miss her too. But you have to face the fact that she left."

"There has to be a reason why, Meg!" I cried. "If only you knew what we shared with one another the night before she left me!"

Meg gasped. "What? You're lying."

"Oh, Meg, it was so wonderful!" I was in tears now. "I had gone to bed and we talked for a while afterwards in darkness. Later that night, she crawled in beside poor Erik and she was wearing no clothes! She touched me, oh, how she touched me!" I wrapped my arms around my body, pretending that she was touching me now. "We made love, sweet, passionate love, Meg! Why? Why would she leave me in the morning? I woke, ready to express my true feelings to her, and she was gone! Gone!"

"Erik, I know how much you love Christine, but-Oh, she wouldn't have made real love to you. She told me time and time again that she feared you. She even told me how she couldn't wait to marry Raoul. I know you don't want to hear this, but someone has to tell you or else you'll go on thinking that she is going to return to you. Erik, Christine only pitied you."

"No!" I wouldn't believe it, I wouldn't! "No, she did not pity me! She wouldn't have rubbed my feet if she pitied poor Erik! She wouldn't have given him her virginity!"

"I know you don't want to believe it, Erik, but sooner or later you will come to see that it's true."

"No, Meg." I sobbed. "Christine did feel something for me. It might not have been love, but it wasn't pity either. She promised to come back, and I am holding her to her word."

"But is she?"

And without another word, Meg left me alone. I stumbled to my desk, fumbling around for my pen. I couldn't take another moment of wondering what Christine was feeling for me! She would know how I felt about her, she would know how her morning flee made me feel! I began writing away on a piece of paper, writing to my angel who was millions of miles away. How hard it was to write when I was blind, but at least Christine would know about my feelings. The words were probably crooked and meshed together, but this was a letter, my love letter to her.

"_Christine,_

_Not a day goes by that I don't think about you or that night-that night, oh, what a wonderful night. Never had any woman touched me like you had. It took me by surprise, sheer surprise! Your body was like soft silk, our joining like prince charming finally finding his true love. I swear to you that I was going to wake in the morning and tell you everything, confess every ounce of my love to you. Why did you leave me? What horrible sight of my body made you flee like a prisoner escaping from jail? If it was my face, I apologize, my love. Erik never meant to scare his little angel away. He would have never taken the mask off again if it meant that you would have went to Coney Island with him. Erik is currently living with Madame Giry and your friend Meg, but I cannot linger here much longer. Madame Giry does not kiss my wounds like you do, nor does she care about Erik's well being. She has threatened him with being sent to a insane asylum. Erik has found a job. With this job, Erik will have money to live on his own. Oh, please, Christine, please tell me that you are happy. Erik worries about you every night. He has terrible nightmares about horrible things being done to you because of the gift you gave me. But Erik can only wonder why his Christine gave him such a gift? If your promise to return to me was a lie, Erik would understand. I'm sure what ever you did was all for Erik's own good. But because of your wonderful nursing, my eye sight has improved slightly. Now, instead of darkness, I see shadows. I can see outlines of people, shadows of my belongings, even see light when the sun shines in through my window. How Erik wishes he could see your outline, if only for a few moments. _

_Until we meet again, my love. But if he never sees you again, just remember that Erik shall always love you until the day he dies. Even in death, his love for you shall never die._

_Your angel of music_

_Erik."_

By the time I was finished writing, my tears were dripping onto the paper, probably causing the ink to smear. I didn't care, at least Christine would know the reason why the ink was smeared. My heart ached for her everyday, and until I got to see her again, my ache would only increase. It boggled my mind when I thought about why she left me? Just hours before, she had crawled willingly into bed with me, made love to this hideous body until we climaxed nearly an hour later. For a whole hour, my angel made love to me as if there was nothing wrong with me, as if I were a normal man. She had called out my name, kissed my decaying flesh, even rode me like a stallion. She had enjoyed what we shared as much as I did….so why did she leave? It had to be my face. Why else? I sobbed even harder, as I folded the letter and placed it aside. But what good would I be doing if I sent this letter to the DeChagny Estate? What if Raoul got a hold of it first? If Christine were happy, surely my stupid love letter would ruin her life. And after receiving such a gift from my angel, who was I to turn around and make her life a living hell?

No, the opera was done, the last notes have been played. My angel made her decision to leave. I could only hope that she would return to me when the time was right. If she didn't, then I hoped that her boy would watch over her now and give her the life I wished I could have gave her…somehow.

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><p><strong>Ok everyone, please review. I'll try to get a few more chapters up before next weekend. I'm gonna be away for 5 days to go kayaking and there is no internet at my campsite. I hope to not keep you all waiting too long for a chapter...<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**Erik's POV**

I wasn't prepared for my first day of work. If there was anything I didn't want to do, it was show off my face to paying customers. It has taken me years to get some of the most horrific events of my gypsy days out of my head, and most nights, my master and the cruel people still haunt my dreams. I was so depressed. I laid there well into the next morning, praying to God to end my life, but like usual, he wasn't listening.

"Erik?" there was a pounding at my bedroom door, Meg's voice pleading my name. Oh, what did she want?

"Erik? Erik, answer me!"

I rolled over to bury my head deeper into my pillow, but I heard my door being pushed open.

"Erik, get out of bed and get dressed. Your friend is downstairs waiting for you." she pulled the blankets from off my body, something that angered me greatly.

I reached out for the blankets, but there was nothing there. The vermin stole them from me!

"She's not my friend!" I snapped. "Now let me go back to sleep."

"You're going to be late on your first day if you don't get up!"

This girl was acting like my mother! How dare she come up here and tell me what to do!

"Erik," her voice was kind and much softer now, as if she were trying to keep others from hearing. "My mother is betting me that you won't get up."

"Betting?"

"Yes. Now, if you don't get up and make some money for yourself to get out of here, you know where you'll be headed."

Meg was right. The last thing I wanted was to be living in a horrible room all alone, and being beaten.

"Here, let me help you."

She handed me my clothes before attempting to undress me. I stopped her, however, remembering what happened when Christine saw me naked. No, my body was for Christine's eyes only.

"No, Meg." I gently grabbed her hand when it went for my shirt. "I'll dress myself. Go downstairs and tell Miss Fleck that I'm sorry for not being ready and shall be down in a few moments."

When the door closed again, I quickly hopped to getting changed. It was beginning to get easier for me, but changing myself still frustrated me beyond anything else. Once dressed, I grabbed my staff, and began counting the stairs as I descended to the bottom.

"There you are." I heard Miss Fleck reply. "I thought you quitted already."

"No, just over slept." I lied.

I felt her arm interlock with my own, something that I still wasn't used to.

"All right. I'll lead the way, you just count the steps."

And I did just that. I counted every step until every turn, mapped out the route in my brain. Being blind wasn't easy, but with all this information stored in my head, it would be like walking a familiar route in the dark. If I could walk around my lair with no lights on, I could eventually do the same with my routes around Coney Island. Along the way, Miss Fleck pointed out landmarks such as a bakery and a few stores.

"Ah, there's my money making corpse." monsieur De'Loof said upon our arrival.

I wasn't sure what was in store for me, but I was escorted to a wooden box-one that I assumed was the coffin.

"Here you are." he replied. "Now sit in there and draw me crowds."

The bastard grabbed my mask, but I grabbed back. He wasn't going to take away my mask! It was my only one! If he lost it, I'd be eternally screwed.

"I'll take it off." I growled.

Soon I could hear the gasps and horrible things being said to me by passing customers. Yes, I couldn't see their faces, but just hearing what they had to say was like a stake to the heart.

"So ugly!"

"It's a monster!"

"He shouldn't be allowed to walk among men!"

The money. That was all I thought about as the verbal abuse went on. The freak show held harsh conditions. I was forced to sit in that coffin for five hours before I was able to get a fifteen minute break. I would have gone for something to eat, but I wasn't familiar with the area and so I just laid there in the coffin with my back turned. I missed Paris, I missed Christine…I even missed being the opera ghost. I never thought I'd be limited to doing nothing more than showing off my face.

"Erik? Erik, are you here?"

I heard Miss. Fleck's voice, but I didn't answer her.

"Oh, there you are." I sensed that she was leaning over the side of the coffin, but I didn't care. "What's wrong?"

"Just leave me be." I sighed. "I don't feel very well at the moment."

"Do you want to get something to eat?"

How badly I wanted to cry. I was fighting back the burning tears, fighting them back and keeping Christine off my mind. If I thought about her, I know I would burst into a sob.

"Erik?"

"Go away! Just please leave me alone."

"Are you not happy with your job?"

Oh, why wouldn't she just go away? Couldn't she tell that I just wanted to be left alone? I felt her hand rubbing my shoulder-was she trying to make me feel better?

"I heard what the crowds were saying to you, Erik. You shouldn't let it get to you. People say horrible things to me as well. At the end of the day you just let it go and collect your pay."

"Yes, perhaps you're right, but it still hurts."

"Hey, I know something that would make you feel better." Oh, this girl. She was always trying to lighten my mood, and yet, nothing would make me happy besides Christine. "There's a place I go to some nights after working. My friend Dr. Gangle owns a little pub for freaks. It's a great time-all the freaks go there. You should come tonight."

"I'd rather not."

"Oh, come on, Erik. You could get to know the rest of the gang. Besides, didn't you say how much you despised going home?"

She was right. The last thing I wanted to do at closing time was face Madame Giry. No, it was better to wait it out and sneak back to my room after she had gone to bed.

"All right." I said. "Maybe for a little while."

"Good. We'll collect our pay and be off at closing."

I still wasn't sure why Miss Fleck was being so kind, but I went along with my day, tolerating the horrible things being said to me, and the ache of having to sit there in that coffin. When it was closing time, I crawled out and placed my mask back on. I wasn't sure where I was supposed to go to pick up my day's pay, but Miss Fleck was there to guide me.

"Ah, my little money making corpse." monsieur D'Loofe sneered. "Wanting your pay ey? Here…."

The man placed a few dollars into my hand, but as I began counting it, I noticed that it wasn't the right amount. Twenty! That's what he promised!

"This isn't the correct amount!" I argued.

"What? Are ye mad? Twenty, that's what I promised!"

"This isn't twenty!"

Monsieur D'Loofe laughed. "Oh, I see- you expect me to pay you in singles."

"How else am I going to know what I have?"

"I'm not running around the city scrounging for singles, corpse."

"Then you're cheating me!"

"Cheating you?"

Miss Fleck pulled me aside, cutting in our argument.

"It's all right, monsieur D'Loofe, I'll take care of it."

"That bastard-"

"Erik, calm down." Miss Fleck argued. "I'll make sure you get twenty singles."

I wasn't sure how she expected to do that, but once we arrived at the pub she was talking about, I was sat down, and I heard her walking about, asking anyone to trade my bills for singles. Christine was like my angel, but Miss Fleck was my savior. Without her, I probably wouldn't be as active as I was.

"Here you are, Erik."

She placed a wad of money into my hand, and I counted every bill. There was indeed twenty dollars here.

"Thank you." I said, sticking the wad into my jacket. "You don't know how much I appreciate this."

"Anything to make your life a little easier."

The pub we were in was extremely loud from people talking, along with a band playing some sort of classical music.

"Erik, relax." she told me. "You've had a long day at work. What do you want to drink? I'll order you something."

I wasn't much of a people person, but I couldn't keep turning Miss Fleck away. She might not have been a friend, but she was the closest thing I had to one at the moment.

"Tea." I said. "Cream and sugar."

"Coming right up."

"I was wondering when you were going to be back." came an unfamiliar voice. It was of a man, one with a high pitched voice.

"Oh, Dr. Gangle, I'd like you to meet my friend, Erik."

Was this Dr. Gangle? I wasn't sure, but the man was very friendly.

"Erik?" he questioned. "He looks new."

"I am." I said. "Just got here not too long ago."

"He's working in the freak show with me." Miss Fleck assured.

"Well, Erik, any friend of Fleck's is a friend of mine. Nice to meet you."

"Two cups of tea, Gangle."

"Coming right up."

When the man walked away, I felt Fleck's hand touch my own. Her hand was soft like Christine's touch and gentle. Made me remember how much I missed my angel.

"So, did you write Christine?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yes, but I couldn't send the letter."

"Why not?"

"Because….because she was happy before I ever came into the picture. There was another man that she was seeing. If they are together now, who am I to ruin it for her? Last night, the girl I live with told me that she's probably happier without me."

"And you believe her?"

I didn't want to nod, but I knew the truth. If Christine wanted to see me, she would have been here. She wouldn't have left me alone that morning.

"In some sense, yes."

"You really are in love with her?"

"I think about Christine ten seconds out of every minute. I would give anything, just to see her again."

"What did she look like?"

I pictured my angel like I remembered her. Just having her image in my head sent shivers down my spine. Then, remembering her smile only brought burning tears rushing to my eyes.

"She was beautiful, Fleck, simply beautiful. Her skin was like pure snow, her eyes shun like diamonds, her chocolate curls danced off her shoulders. She was a little shorter than me, but not by much-and her voice-Oh, her voice was like hearing an angel sing."

"You're a wonderful person, Erik. Surely she will return to you."

I shook my head. "If only that were true. As much as I want her to come back, I know she won't."

"What makes you believe it?"

"We-" Oh, how was I to tell her this without sounding like a fool? "We were separated."

"Separated how? In a crowd?"

"No-um…we were on our way to Calais and stopped for the night. She told me she was going to see me off in the morning, and return to me as soon as she could. I believed her, believed that she would come here to meet me. I didn't argue, and that night we-um…she-"

"Yes?"

"I didn't know what came over her, but we made love."

"Really?" she gasped. "That has to be about the most romantic thing I've ever heard. I mean, it's very rare that a normal human being chooses to be with someone like us."

"The romance didn't last long. Believe me, I thought the same thing, but when I awoke the next morning, she was gone. The only possible answer I can give myself was that she saw my face, saw the monster she made love to. It probably scared her so much that she couldn't stomach another moment with me. Not a day goes by that I don't think about it being something else, but how can I dwell on it? What's done is done."

"What makes you think that it was your face? What if it was something else?"

"How could it not be my face?" I cried. "I would run too if I woke to such a monstrous sight."

"But if Christine knew about your face beforehand, why would she have made love to you if she didn't feel something other than fear?"

"I don't know if we were in the dark or not, but all I know is that when I was maskless, I brought her nothing but fear."

It hurt to know that I was a single man. I couldn't stomach another moment in this pub. There were cheerful people dancing about with their lovers, laughter and happiness. I couldn't be surrounded by such nonsense when I myself couldn't be happy. I was at the brink of sobbing, sobbing over the only woman I ever loved. She should have been here with me, should have been dancing with me, and yet, I had no idea on her whereabouts. If only I could cry out to her and have her answer me. If she told me she hated my guts, I would never worry about her again, but I couldn't, not when I didn't know why she left me.

"Erik? Are you all right?"

Miss Fleck's concern dragged me from my daydream. I couldn't stay here, and I wouldn't linger another moment.

"I…I feel ill." I said, standing to my feet. "I'm going to go home and lay down."

"Are you sure? I could take you."

"No, I'll be all right on my own." I said. "I know the way, I memorized it."

"Well, all right-I'll see you tomorrow then."

I didn't say another word as I stumbled to get outside. Only then did I allow myself to break down and cry. I leaned up against a nearby building and sobbed into my arm as memories of my angel flashed through my mind.

"I love you…" I cried it out over and over again into my arm, thinking that she would appear before my own very eyes if I cried loud enough. But no one was listening. I found my way back home, arriving when everyone was asleep. I was glad, because I wasn't in the mood to confront Madame Giry. I placed my pay into a jar that was sitting on my desk, and undressed. By the time I was in my night attire, Ayesha was already circling me, begging to be picked up. For what seemed like hours, I continued to cry into my pillow, until the tears burned my eyes and put me to sleep.

"Erik?"

I heard my name being called later that night, only to roll over and sigh into my pillow.

"Erik? Wake up."

I groaned, and reached out for the lamp on my night table. When I turned it on and opened my eyes, I saw Meg's figure standing at the side of my bed.

"What are you doing in my room?" I growled. "It's late."

"Erik, it's Christine." she frantically gasped. "Raoul's beaten her."

My heart instantly stopped. Raoul? How could he? Why would he? Oh, he must have found out about what my angel did to me…Why else would she have been beaten?

"She wrote me a letter, Erik."

I felt Meg sitting down at the side of my bed as she began to read it.

"_Meg,_

_I know it has been a long time since we have spoken, but I have written to tell you that Raoul and I are no longer together. I returned to him, only to find that he has changed. For what reasons, I'm not sure of, but as of last night he has began beating me. It started with a slap to the face, and turned into me being thrown across the room. I have left the estate and Paris. In my heart, I still love him, in my heart I still love Raoul. Perhaps I shall return to him one day, but until he is back to being himself, I simply cannot stomach the thought of being around him. Yes, I have made many mistakes in my life-"_

"Stop!" I demanded. "Just stop!"

I was a mistake! I was one of the mistakes Christine was talking about. She didn't love me, she loved Raoul! I wanted to die now! I wanted to take a knife and thrust it deep into my heart.

"Erik, I'm not finished with the letter."

"I don't care about the rest of it. I got my answer…."

I felt Meg get up from the bed and heard her heading to the door.

"She's coming to stay for a while." she said.

"How soon?"

"She should be arriving by the end of the month."

"Then I will be sure to be out of here by then."

That was a promise I was going to be sure to keep. If Christine were coming here to visit Meg, I knew it would be awkward for the both of us. I was a mistake! The cruel words burned through my heart! I had loved this woman like no other, and yet, she couldn't love me back-no, she had the nerve to call what she did with me a mistake! By the end of the month I would no longer be in the presence of Madame Giry or Meg, and I would be sure to stay clear of Christine. Seeing her now would only break my heart, so I would do what I did best; disappear forevermore.

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><p><strong>Please review!<strong>


	14. Chapter 14

**Erik's POV**

And so it was settled. I was going to make sure to be out of Madame Giry's household by the end of the month. To face Christine again would only break my heart now that she had stated about her many life's mistakes. I worked everyday, tolerating the horrible words said to me, the items being thrown at my body, even the uncomfortable coffin I was forced to sit in. I tolerated it all, thinking about Christine and what she would say if she saw me living with Madame Giry upon her arrival. Some nights I left the freak show smelling like a garbage can, other times I was so sticky with filth, that I would have to shower twice in order to wash away the grime stuck to my flesh. The money was worth it. Each night, I stuck my day's pay into the jar I had sitting on my desk. Yes, my pay was all in singles, but I was so close to getting enough to get out on my own.

Miss Fleck was a big help when it came to finding a place to live. I had described the environment I wished to live in, and she came back with the result I had been wanting. She told me there was a secluded home on the other end of where our freak show was located. The home was on one floor, but it had a music room with a piano and enough darkness to keep me hidden from the world. Besides Christine or Madame Giry, Miss Fleck had been the first stranger I had trusted. She was honest, and willing to help as much as I needed.

By the end of the month, Miss Fleck helped me move into my new home and assisted with explaining where everything was. I could see the outlines of the furniture, even the outlines of the rooms. Yes, I wasn't able to see the wallpaper or the beautiful rose bushes that Miss Fleck told me about, but I liked it. It was most certainly a step up from the cold lairs of the opera house. The home I lived in was far away from Madame Giry's home and that's all that mattered. Plus, it was closer to the freak show, so I wouldn't have to walk as far as I used to.

I had expected Christine to be in Coney Island by now, but kept my thoughts elsewhere. In my mind, I wanted to hate her, but my heart wouldn't allow such a thing. But I promised myself to stay away. My heart was begging me to go past Madame Giry's home just to see if she were really here, but I denied its request. Instead, I continued working endless hours to keep my mind off of everything. Some, if not most nights I would be bored and lonely. How I missed playing and writing music, but that wasn't possible anymore.

"Oh, Ayesha, I miss her company." I cried one night in the warmth of my bed. My cat was curled up beside me as I laid there wide awake at such a late hour. For weeks, I had been having horrible nightmares about Christine. Most of them took place while I was locked away in a freak show and I would jolt awake, breaking out in a sweat. The summer heat was slowly fading away and winter would be here soon. Luckily, I had enough money stored away to last me until spring arrived. But what would I do until then? Lay here lonely and bored? I was a body without a purpose in life. When I could see, I was able to play and write music to pass the time away, but now? Now I had nothing to do and without work the only thing to do was lay in bed.

One morning as I was laying there resting, I heard a knock at my door. Figuring that it was Miss Fleck coming to check on me, I rose from my bed just as the grandfather clock in the hall struck nine in the morning. After taking a few seconds to fix my hair and place my mask on, I reached for my staff to assist me in getting to the front door. Though, now that I was blind, I never opening the door until I knew who it was.

"Yes?" I called upon reaching the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Meg."

Meg? I had not seen her in months. What did she want? And how on earth did she find me? Curious, I opened the door only to be met with her figure.

"How did you find me?" I angrily questioned. "I kept this place a secret for important reasons."

"I've been following you the past few days."

"Following me? How dare you-"

"It's because I needed to talk with you, Erik."

I decided to let the girl in before we drew attention to ourselves from the people passing by. My neighbors still didn't know who lived here, and I planned on keeping it that way.

"Could we turn on the lights a little?" she asked. "It's very dark in here."

"Well, now you know how I feel everyday." I snapped, closing the front door.

"Sorry, Erik."

I grunted at her remark, and went for the light switch. Too much light bothered my eyes, which was why I enjoyed the darkness, but for the time being, I dimmed them just enough to light the kitchen we were standing in.

"You have a nice home."

Why was Meg here? Why now? And why on this very day? She never cared about me before so why was she here now?

"I'd invite you to sit, but you're not a frequent visitor here. Come to think of it, this is the first time I've seen you since I left Madame Giry's."

"I had to come, Erik." she confessed. "It's Christine."

"Christine, Christine, Christine!" I growled, slamming my fist down on the table. "Can't you see that I'm living here alone and in a secluded home for the simple fact that I'm trying to forget her! What makes you think that I still have feelings for that woman! If I did, don't you think I would have came snooping around your house in an attempt to see her again?"

"That's the thing, Erik," Meg cried. "She hasn't shown up."

This calmed my anger. Christine had not arrived yet? I left Madame Giry's home nearly two months ago. I surely thought Christine would have been living here by now.

"Well, perhaps she's made other arrangements." I said. "She probably went crawling back to her precious boy."

"Erik, Christine told me she would be here by the end of the month. That was two months ago. She would have written me if she changed her mind. I haven't gotten a single letter from her since the one she wrote about her plans to come here."

"And what would you like me to do about it? Do I look like the authorities?"

"No, I just thought that maybe you knew where she was?"

This made me laugh. Me? Know about Christine's whereabouts?

"What's so funny? This is serious, Erik."

"It's about as serious as a bunch of circus clowns, Meg. Your friend is probably married to the boy and living a wonderful life curled up beside his wonderfully handsome body. I've accepted the fact that she's never going to see me again, and you should start accepting it as well."

"What's happened to you?" she barked. "You're not the same man I remember. The Erik I knew would have been more worried than anyone about Christine. You're acting as if you don't even care-"

"I don't!" I was furious now. "I don't care about Christine! I've accepted my fate long ago. Even you believed that she slept with me out of pity."

"Yes, I did. But after I read that letter, I knew otherwise."

"What? What are you talking about? I heard what she wrote. A mistake! That's all I ever was!"

"No, you're wrong, Erik." Meg took the crumpled letter out of her pocket, and began reading it to me again.

"_Meg,_

_I know it has been a long time since we have spoken, but I have written to tell you that Raoul and I are no longer together. I returned to him, only to find that he has changed. For what reasons, I'm not sure of, but as of last night he has started beating me. It started with a slap to the face and turned into me being thrown across the room. I have left the estate and Paris. In my heart, I still love him, in my heart, I still love Raoul. Perhaps I shall return to him one day, but until he is back to being himself, I simply cannot stomach the thought of being around him. Yes, I have made many mistakes in my life, but some of those mistakes were the most beautiful and best nights of my life. So are they really mistakes? Oh, Meg, if only you knew what's happening to me now? It's frightening, but at the same time it's wonderful. When everything is over and done with I hope I can love just as much as he had loved me. You may still think me crazy for envying another, but someday I will make it up to him. If only he knew that the biggest mistake I had ever made was leaving him before the sun rose. But I had no other choice. Someday I will attempt to tell him how sorry I am for the pain that I've caused. I hope that time can be soon, Meg. I shall be arriving at the end of the month._

_Until we meet again,_

_Christine."_

When Meg was finished with the letter, my heart wanted to cease within my chest. In Christine's letter, she had written everything to sound as if she were talking about Raoul, when in reality she was talking about me. Did she really love me?

"See, Erik?" Meg asked. "I was going to tell you, but you were so upset. I decided to wait and let Christine explain everything to you, but she never arrived. I'm beginning to worry."

Christine needed my help. Horrible thoughts began running through my mind, horrible thoughts about her ship sinking, or being stranded at sea. If she was to arrive two months ago, then she was possibly already on a ship by the time Meg received her letter.

"It's likely that she booked a passage from Calais to Coney Island." I said. "She could be stranded at sea, especially if a storm damaged a part of the ship. They would have to wait until help arrived. You should check with the coast guard at the docks. They'll be able to tell you more."

Meg wrapped her arms around me, taking me by surprise.

"Thank you, Erik. I'll see what's going on, and report back to you."

"No, Meg." In Christine's letter, she had stated that she would eventually return to Raoul. It would do me no good to hope for the love that Christine would never give me. No, the best thing to do was stay away.

"And when Christine arrives, please tell her that you have no clue on my whereabouts if she asks."

"Are you certain?"

I nodded. "I helped you, now you must help me by keeping her away. Her stay will only be temporary. If she were to leave me again, I wouldn't be able to function. Please…"

"All right."

I wasn't sure if Christine ever arrived, but something good must have came from my help, otherwise Meg would have been back. The summer season came to an end, allowing winter to take over. I stayed inside most days, laying in my bed to stay warm as the snow fell outside my window. I still had not attempted to play the piano, but without Christine or my sight, there didn't seem a reason to do so. Because I had nobody around to help out, feeding myself was something nearly impossible to do. Most days I settled with bread and cold meat. I had only attempted cooking one time, and that turned into a disaster. I had wanted to cook myself soup, but wound up burning my hand over the stove before I could even start it. From that day forward, I stuck to cold meals.

When I went out, I usually bought enough food to last me a few weeks. Christmas was nearly a day away and I would be spending the holiday alone. Miss Fleck had offered to let me spend it with her and her friends, but I declined. Why? I wasn't quite sure, but being around other people made me nervous. Then again, Christmas was a happy time for people, and never once was that holiday ever joyful for me. The merry atmosphere would only sadden me. It was a time to spend with loved ones, and I was without a single one.

I had decided to stay inside with Ayesha, but in order for me to do so, I had to go shopping for my meal. I had run out of bread and Ayesha had lapped up the last drop of milk.

"I'm putting you on a diet." I spat as I through on my jacket. "It's too cold and icy for a blind man to be walking around. If you hadn't drank all the milk, I wouldn't have to leave."

Ayesha was taunting me, circling my feet as I dressed to go out.

"Yes, well, you should be going out, not me."

After taking a few dollars from my stash and placing it into my pocket, I grabbed my staff and was off. As I walked up my driveway, I took extra precaution on the icy cement. The last thing I wanted to do was slip and break a bone.

Coney Island was anything but safe for me. People had come to know that I was blind, which brought on more taunting when I wasn't working. Children would shove me in the streets, people would laugh, some people would even attempt to trip me. I had become known city wide as the "Living Corpse" and everyone knew it. The streets of town were deserted today, and I couldn't blame the people for not wanting to come out. The weather was dreary and the snow was beginning to get deep. I was about to turn the corner, when I heard two familiar voices coming from up ahead. I knew those voices anywhere! Christine! Quickly I ducked into a nearby alley and stood with my back against the wall as the figures of Meg and Christine slowly walked by. I might not have been able to see her chocolate curls, but her outline and figure was just as I remembered it being; beautiful!

"Oh, Christine, this shall be a wonderful Christmas." Meg exclaimed. "We shall have to take your prince out for a sled ride."

Her prince? What on earth was she talking about? Had Christine married Raoul? Was he here?

"Oh, Meg, I'm not sure. You know how he sleeps a lot."

"Christine, you've been here a few months and you don't want to do anything. I had to pry you out of the house just to come shopping with me today."

"I know-but…I-"

"Christine, I told you before."

"Yes, yes, I know. It saddens me though."

And with that the voices faded away. I knew when my angel was sad, and she was most definitely sad. But why? She probably missed Raoul.

I was coming out from the ally, when all of a sudden, I was grabbed from behind.

"Oh, look boys." came a voice. "It's the living corpse!"

I turned to see the figures of three tall men standing there. I quickly snatched my arm away to continue on my way to the market, but they wouldn't let me leave.

"Going some where?"

"Just leave me be!" I demanded.

"And what's this?" my staff was grabbed from my hands. "Look at his cute little staff."

The other two men began shoving me from side to side, causing me to lose my balance and fall flat on my stomach. I groaned, already feeling the stinging of my palms which had been scraped by the icy cobblestone road. As the men were standing around me laughing, I kicked their legs so hard that one of the men fell.

"You'll pay for that, corpse!"

I was grabbed again, this time thrown into the ally. I tried to scurry to my feet, but they bashed my legs in, kicked me in the side, even threw away my mask. I couldn't see much, but felt the snow burning into my deformed flesh.

"Look at his skull! It's exposed!"

"Bash his brains in!"

I felt the part of my exposed skull being hit over and over again. I tried to shield it with my hands, but that didn't stop the men from continuing their attack. I could taste blood now, feel it surrounding my broken body. When the attack finally stopped, my money was snatched from my pocket. There was silence again. Dead silence except for the sound of the wind blowing. I tried to stand up, but I couldn't…I couldn't move a muscle.

"Help…" I called out, hoping someone would hear me, but the extent of my voice only got so high because of how breathless I was. Blood was choking me from the back of my throat, making it nearly impossible for me to continue calling out.

"He-help…"

When no one answered me, I began crawling. I crawled my broken body out of that alley and collapsed in the middle of the road whispering "help" over and over again. But nobody would stop to help me. Carriages passed by without stopping, people passed right on by without even a second glance. Miss Fleck was right. People here loved seeing the freak shows, but when one of us were in need of help, no one ever dared to lend a hand.

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><p><strong>I know, cliffy... Well, no new chapters until I get back from my trip. Hope this holds you over until then. Please review!<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**Erik's POV**

"Erik…Erik" I heard my name being called, but couldn't respond. Over and over again my name was called, but who was calling me? I had literally passed out from the burning pain I was in, never knowing if I would regain consciousness again.

"Erik? Answer me."

I was warm, wrapped in blankets and laying on something soft. When I opened my eyes, I noticed the figure of a woman standing over me.

"Erik?"

It was Meg. I'd know that voice anywhere. I was alive. In a bit of pain, but I was alive. My deformity was still burning from when the snow melted over it. My legs still hurt, but I was thankful to be alive.

"Where am I?" I croaked.

"In your bedroom. I found you while I was shopping."

"With Christine?"

"Yes. It broke her heart, really."

"And why is that?"

"Because I…I told her that you died when she arrived in Coney Island."

"You what?" my heart stopped. I told Meg that I wished to be left alone. She didn't have to tell Christine that I died.

"Well, it was the only way to get you out of her head for good."

I felt her dabbing my head with a damp cloth.

"I called a doctor over and he said you need to stay in bed for the next few days. You've sprained your ankle and bruised your ribs."

"Yes, all thanks to the thugs who taunted me in the streets."

I pulled the covers over my body tightly as I turned to face the wall.

"She wants to see you." were the next words that escaped Meg's mouth.

"Tell her I said no."

"You should see her, Erik."

"Why? What good will it do me? She left me, remember?"

"Erik, you should really see her. I…"

"You what?"

"She's beautiful, and she has…"

"Has what?"

"Something to tell you."

"I still think it's a terrible idea, Meg. But, if she wanted to see me, I guess one time wouldn't hurt. Is she here?"

"Unfortunately, no. She didn't want to upset you."

"Tomorrow is Christmas." I said. "If she wants to see me for a while tell her to come over tomorrow around noon."

"You shouldn't be left alone." Meg said, tucking me in. "How will you manage?"

"I'll manage by staying in bed."

And with that, Meg left me alone. All throughout the night, I attempted to sleep but my legs were screaming. Ayesha even tried to make me feel better by crawling in beside me, but still, I couldn't sleep. The following morning, I was finally drifting off when I heard a knock at my door. I sluggishly rolled over, placing my exposed face into my pillow.

"Answer the door, Ayesha." I murmured in an attempt to fall back asleep.

When the knocking continued, I finally sat up and ran my fingers through my gray strands of hair. I would have placed my mask back over my face, but sadly, the thugs had stolen it. When I felt better, I would have to make myself a new one. As I attempted to reach the door, my legs weakened, but I forced myself to stay standing. When I finally reached the door, I called out, awaiting an answer.

"Who is it?"

And then, for the first time in months, my angel responded to me.

"Erik? Oh, my god, it's really you! It's Christine!"

I took a deep breath and opened the door. My angel was indeed standing there, her outline and shadow instantly taking my breath away. But, I stayed strong, remembering that she was in love with Raoul and not me.

"Erik, you look great."

"Surely you must be joking?" I said. "I was beaten to a pulp yesterday if you haven't noticed?"

"Yes, I know about that." she kindly stated. "But you're up and about. Even your eyes are looking well again."

"Thank you… Oh, I was acting completely horrible. How was I supposed to be acting? Grateful? Happy? I felt nothing of those things. "Would you like to come in?"

I stepped aside and let her enter before closing the door behind me.

"Oh, this is a lovely home you have."

"Yes, it's better than living with Madame Giry. I don't really know what it looks like, but it gets me up and about safely." I headed to the counter and began filling up the tea kettle. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"I'd love one…here," Christine attempted to take away the kettle, but I snatched back, placing it over the stove. I may not have been able to cook, but making tea was something I was able to do blind.

"No, I can do it, Christine. I'm not as blind as I used to be."

"What do you mean?"

"What? Meg didn't tell you that I could see shadows now?"

She gasped. "Really? You can see me?"

"Your outline and shadow? Yes. I cannot see colors or the details in objects though. That's a task I simply haven't mastered yet. But, I guess outlines and shadows are better than complete darkness."

I took a seat at the kitchen table with Christine, not knowing quite what to say. The only thing running through my mind was that night-and the morning after.

"Meg told me you helped her find me when I didn't show up at the end of June."

"Yes. She was worried and I told her to check with the coast guard."

"Yes, well our ship became stranded at sea for a while when the generators died. We had to wait for someone to come fix it."

"Well, you're safe and that's all that matters."

"Meg told me you were dead." she began, her voice filled with such sorrow. "I didn't want to believe it at first, but soon leaned to accept it."

"That wasn't my idea, just so you know. I told her to tell you that I wished to be left alone."

"But why?"

How badly my anger wanted to come out. How I wanted to scream and flip over this very table…but I didn't.

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Erik, please don't bring that night up."

"I didn't, Christine." I stood to my feet when the kettle began to whistle. "But one does wonder why you left me alone to fend for myself when morning came? I woke up naked, alone and left to find Madame Giry. Did you know how hard it was to dress myself and hurry out the door-to a crowded dock with no idea where I was going?"

"Erik-"

"I'm not done yet!" I snapped. "So was it my face? Did you wake to find a monster laying beside you?"

"I didn't want to leave, Erik." she cried. "I woke to dress, only to find Raoul's guards searching for me. I knew if I went with them willingly, that they'd leave Calais. I did it for your safety."

I stood there completely still, feeling her hands bracing themselves on my shoulders.

"You must believe me when I say that when I woke in your arms, I smiled when I noticed you were sleeping soundly beside me. Did you not think that I didn't want to wake with you? To tell you how much I enjoyed the previous evening?"

My hands were trembling around the kettle as I began pouring the water into the cups I had set out.

"How could you say that you've enjoyed it? I was fumbling around like a blind bat, nervous about disappointing you."

"You did nothing of the sort, Erik. It was breathtaking."

"A mistake!" I had to get myself out of this daydream. Christine was not in love with me! I heard what she wrote in that letter. "You called it a mistake!"

"Maybe, but it was the most beautiful mistake I could have ever made. This I promise you, Erik. When I returned home to Raoul, he beat me."

"Why? Why would he beat you?"

"Erik, please…can't we take this one step at a time?"

I turned and handed her a cup of tea.

"If that is what you wish."

When we were seated again, I stared down at my cup, wondering what to say.

"I take it you have a job?"

"Yes, I do. During the running season, I expose my face to paying crowds in a freak show."

"No, you don't." she gasped.

"Yes, I do. It's the only thing I'm good for. I'm known as the "Living Corpse."

"Erik, it's horrible!"

"It pays the bills!" I snapped. "Who else was going to help me if I didn't help myself? Madame Giry was going to be satisfied with sending me away to a mental facility."

"I'm staying in Coney Island until further notice. If you would allow me to help, I could-"

"No!" I barked. "I'm doing well on my own, thank you. Since you've left me, I've learned how to dress myself, find my way to work, even cook for myself. Yes, I'm still working out the strings with cooking in darkness, but I'm doing all right."

"Erik, I can help you if you would allow me to."

"I don't need you anymore, Christine." I was trying to hold back my anger, but I was never too good at it. "Besides, you love Raoul. That's what you said in your letter. You said that when he begins being himself again you'll return to him and marry."

"Erik, I…he…"

"Spit it out, woman! You sound like an uneducated monkey."

"I'm never returning to him. He wouldn't accept me back. Not now, not ever."

"And why not?"

"I…I can't tell you."

"Can't, or won't?"

"I want to tell you, but I don't want to upset you. These past ten months have been terrible for me and I don't want to bring us anymore pain."

"What do you want out of me, Christine? You left me. I know you sit here and tell me it was for my own good, but I can't believe it. Danger or no danger, if you cared about me, you wouldn't have left me alone to fend for myself."

"I don't blame you for feeling that way, Erik. But, please don't shun me from your life. At least let us be friends. Let me spend time with you."

"Spending time with you would only prolong the pain of everything that's happened between us. I think it's best if we just didn't see each other again."

"Erik, please, don't do this."

She was begging me now. Why was she begging me?

"Just leave, Christine! Please, for both our sakes!"

"Erik, there are things about me that you don't know about."

"Such as what?" I was losing my patience with her now. All I wanted was to crawl back in bed and be left alone.

"I…I-"

"I don't believe a word you're saying, Christine! You sit here and tell me that Raoul has beaten you and that you wish to spend time with me! I don't believe your boy would ever lay a hand on you!"

"He did!" she cried. "He beat me black and blue!"

"For what reason! Tell me! Or else you can leave."

"He…I..I told him about what happened between us."

"Why would you do such a thing?" I grabbed her wrists, pulling her body close to mine.

"Because….because…I had not made love to Raoul. I was only a week back when I began throwing up…when I stopped having my monthly cycle."

My heart ceased within my chest. Had I made my angel sick? Had I done something to cause her body to act up? It was my hideous seed. It must have made her so ill….I shouldn't have let myself pour into her.

"Are you all right now?" I asked, gently releasing her from my grasp.

"Erik, you do know what I'm talking about, right?"

"I..I had made you ill."

"No, I was not sick."

"But you were throwing up."

"Yes, because on the night we made love, we conceived a child."

My body stumbled backwards upon hearing this. A child? No, how could I have created a child? A little baby? Another life? How could something as hideous as me create another life?

"And you got rid of it?" I questioned. "Please say that Christine disposed of it?"

"No…" she gasped. "Why would I have gotten rid of it? That's why Raoul beat me. That's why I confessed to him about what I did with you. When he heard about our growing child, he beat me."

"And the child?"

"He's perfectly healthy."

"He?" my heart was racing again. A boy? I had a son?

"Yes, Erik." she said. "A son. I had him a few weeks ago."

"Wh…What does he look like?"

"Oh, Erik, he's beautiful. He has dark hair, and your eyes. His face is completely flawless."

"And his name?"

"I named him Gustave."

"After your father." I stated.

"Yes, but his middle name is Erik, after his father."

"And his surname?"

"I…I was hoping to name him after you. I just didn't know your surname."

I turned away from her, still completely taken by the thought of me having a child.

"I can't do this, Christine. I can't be a father."

"And I thought the same when it came to me being a mother, Erik. I was frightened at first, but I love our son. He's just like you in every way."

"No! Just stop….please…"

"I want you to meet him, Erik. He's your son."

"No, Christine! He's your son…not mine."

Christine grabbed my arm, but I pulled back.

"He needs his father."

"Do you think this is a game, Christine? He needs his father? I am not a father. No, he needs Raoul!"

"An abusive man? Is that who you want raising our child? Raising your child?"

I didn't say a word, my heart was bleeding from the news I just received. I couldn't be a father…I just couldn't be.

"Erik, please say something."

"I don't love you anymore."

"That's a lie, Erik."

"I wish it wasn't."

"Erik, I know that we have a lot of problems, but if you would let us get through them together it would be much easier."

"Christine-"

"Please, Erik. Just let me see you."

I felt her warm hand caressing my cheek, sending shivers down my spine.

"Please…Let us see you. You'll love him, Erik. If you would allow yourself to see Gustave, you would love him."

As much as I wanted to say no, I couldn't. My father wasn't alive when I was born and I was forced to live life without one. If Gustave was my child, I didn't want him going through life without one either. I may not be the best father, but as least I could be there for him.

"I'll agree for Gustave's sake."

"I know that you have to stay in bed for a few days, but if you'd like, I'll invite you to dinner tomorrow."

"I don't feel comfortable at Madame Giry's house." I said. "If you want to see me you'll have to come here."

"You can't cook, but…I'll come cook dinner here then."

"Agreed."

Before leaving, Christine wrapped her arms around my waist and brought me in for a hug.

"Thank you, Erik, for everything."

"I haven't forgiven you." I firmly stated. "So there's no need to thank me."

"I'll be over tomorrow evening. I'll make…um…."

"Surprise me."

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"I look forward to it."

Christine gave me another hug before heading to the door.

After letting Christine out, I backed up against the door and slid down. I was a father….Those words ran through my mind over and over again. I didn't know what to do with a baby. I didn't know how to feed a child, or how to make it happy. When I was a baby, my mother didn't even care for me….how was I supposed to care for my own flesh and blood? He was coming tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would meet my baby. Tomorrow I would have a son….my son…and I was more frightened than anything. What if he didn't like me? What if he found me hideous? If he did then I would completely understand. I was a father….the words continued to haunt my mind. If Christine was bringing my son here tomorrow, I needed to clean up. I might have not had any cribs or playpens for her to place him in, but the least I could do was make it childproof.

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><p><strong>Please review everyone!<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**Erik's POV**

Everything had to be perfect. I spent that evening and the following morning preparing everything for Christine's arrival. She had only seen my kitchen, and even I didn't know if it was worthy of her or not….Being blind and placing things in their correct place was a little harder than I first thought. I hardly ever spent time in my the other rooms in my house, but today, Christine was probably going to want a tour. From inside my family room, I tore the sheets off the furniture and pulled back the curtains to let in some light. The least I could do was make my home feel like a home.

I was nearly exhausted by the time I heard someone knocking at the door. I had just finished, and went scurrying to the door with one hand covering my deformity. The last thing I wanted was for my son to scream upon seeing me. After opening the door, I saw Christine's figure standing there holding something small in her arms. Was this my son?

"Hi, Erik." she kindly said. "How are you feeling today?"

My body was still hurting, but I felt much better.

"A little tired." I said. "But much better, thank you."

I moved aside to let Christine in, hearing her placing a few items down on the table. If I would have known she was bringing lots of things with her, I would have ordered her a carriage to bring her over.

"It's snowing again." I heard her say as she continued rummaging around.

"I…I hadn't noticed." I closed the door and turned around, my hands shaking with nervousness.

"Why are you covering your face like that? Did those thugs hurt you there?"

"What? No, um…I don't have my mask. They took it from me."

I heard Christine giggle, before she placed something into my hands.

"Meg told me about that. Luckily I had an extra one in my luggage from when I left you in Calais."

The memory stung my heart, but I was glad she had an extra mask. I placed it on, feeling relieved that I had my privacy again.

"So, would you like to meet your son?"

My heart was pounding against my chest as I slowly nodded. A son…I had a son.

"He's been a little cranky this morning." she warned. "Why don't we go into your family room and sit down. It would be much easier."

"Yes, right this way."

The longer I could hold off seeing my son, the better. I didn't know what to do with a baby, and I knew I was bound to screw up. I led us to the family room I had been cleaning all morning, and motioned her to the couch.

"Oh, Erik, it's such a beautiful room."

"Thank you. I haven't really gotten a good look at it…" Was that a joke? Had Christine's presence actually caused me to make my blindness a joke?

She giggled and took a seat as I did the same. I was sitting so close to her now. So close that I could feel her skirts making contact with my trousers. Christine always dressed to perfection. Even if it were raining, she would always dress as if going out for a Sunday stroll. How my eyes ached just to see how she looked at this very moment…probably beautiful like always.

"Well, it's a very lovely room. The walls are painted red with black trim around the windows."

"Thank you for describing it to me."

"Well, hold out your arms."

"What?"

"You want to hold Gustave, don't you?"

I did as she asked and for the first time in my life, I heard my son begin to whimper as she removed him from the carrier she had carried him in. Oh, how is voice sounded like an angel crying. His soft little voice was like music to my ears. My mother always said my cries sounded like music…perhaps this is exactly how I sounded. Maybe even better. This was, after all, the spawn of two extremely musical beings. With Christine's angelic voice, and my mastered musical abilities, this child could be both Mozart and Beethoven combined.

"Shhh…Gustave, it's all right." she cooed. "You're going to meet your daddy."

My son was placed into my arms, Christine adjusting them to cradle our bundle of joy. He wasn't that heavy. Five, perhaps six pounds if that.

"Oh, Christine." my heart stopped in my chest. This was my baby…he was perfect. "He's no bigger than a loaf of bread."

"Support his head." she kindly warned.

"What does he look like?"

"Why don't you imagine it for yourself." Christine took my hand, and began running it over our child's face. I took every detail into mind, the way his skin felt, his little button nose, his soft lips and even his round shape. When I felt his head, his hair was thin and sparse like my own.

"He's blonde, Erik." Christine told me. "Just like you."

"He's perfect."

"Would you like to feed him?"

The only thing I could do was nod as Christine placed a bottle into my hand.

"Here," she guided my hand to his mouth to help me situate the bottle and before I knew it, he was drinking.

"You're doing perfect."

"You really think so?" I curiously questioned.

"Yes, Erik, really."

When my son was finished drinking, Christine took his small body out of my arms to burp him.

"Do you have anywhere I could put him down for a while?" she asked.

"I'm sorry that I don't have a cradle, Christine." I placed my head down in embarrassment. "I don't have anything for a baby."

"It's all right, Erik." she assured. "It's not your fault. I'll place him into the carrier I brought him in. He's not fussy about where he sleeps."

"My room is much warmer if you want to put him in there." I suggested. "Keep the door open so you can hear him if he starts crying."

"Where is your room?"

I stood up from where I was sitting, and used my staff to guide me through the halls until I reached my bedroom. I motioned Christine inside, and watched her place him down on top of my bed.

"Erik, you're sleeping on hard springs."

"It's not that bad."

"It's bad enough. Oh, Erik… You deserve a better bed."

"I don't deserve much. I don't even deserve Gustave."

"Come on, Erik, let's get to making dinner."

While Gustave slept, I followed Christine out to the kitchen and sat down as she prepared dinner. I didn't have much food laying around, but I was sure Christine brought some of her own.

"The snow is getting terrible out there." Christine stated as she rummaged around my kitchen.

"You could leave if you wanted to." I said. "I wouldn't want you to have to walk home in such blizzard like conditions. It's not good for you or the child."

"That's very kind of you to think like that, Erik, but I promised you dinner."

"What are you making anyway?"

"It's a surprise. Now, how about some wine in the other room?"

I didn't argue with Christine and stood up on my weak legs, limping towards the couch that was in my family room.

"Oh, am I making you move around too much?"

"A little." I said, plopping down on the cushions.

"Well, we won't move from this spot."

When Christine seated herself beside me, she handed me a glass. I sipped on my wine, while wondering what to say. It was my fault. I should have allowed Christine to see me in the first place instead of telling Meg to hide me. And what made matters worse was that Meg told her that I was dead. My poor angel had suffered through giving birth all on her own, without the father standing beside her, squeezing her hand and saying that everything would be all right. In my heart I was angry with Christine for leaving me, but at the same time I was angry with myself for allowing my body to act out on my manly urges.

"I'm so sorry, Christine."

"What ever for?"

"I…I told Meg to tell you that I didn't wish to see you, but instead she told you that I had died. If I would have been the man that I was and just met you face to face months ago, you wouldn't have had to go through Gustave's birth alone."

"Erik," Christine placed her hand over my own. "Don't be sorry. You had a right to feel the way you did about me. I'll admit when I finally arrived, I was excited to see you, to tell you that I was pregnant. But, when Meg told me you had died, it shattered my world. When I was out and about, I always looked for you, just encase she was lying. But I always came out empty handed."

"I'm here now, Christine." I placed my hand over hers, lightly squeezing it. "And I will be here for our son."

"I need to check on dinner, Erik, I'll be right back."

When Christine left, I continued to sit there sipping on my wine. How badly I wanted to hate Christine, but I couldn't. If she would take me back this instant, I would crawl right back into bed with her. Just thinking about feeling that wonderful bliss of our bodies combined once more was enough to send me over the edge. I had never felt such heaven until that night, and I couldn't help but want to experience it again.

"It's almost finished, Erik." Christine came back and sat down beside me. "We should be eating in a matter of minutes."

"Good, I'm famished."

"Where are your dishes?"

Once more I stood to my feet, feeling Christine's hand wanting to push me down.

"No, Erik, just tell me."

"I know how to set the table, Christine." I argued. "I've been able to do a lot since you've been gone."

"I didn't mean to offend you, Erik."

"You didn't."

I found my way back into the kitchen, reaching up on the top shelf where I kept my silverware. As I began to set the table, I couldn't help but feel her eyes watching me, as if she were amazed. This was nothing new to me. I knew my way around the house. I had to know or else I would be bumping into walls and dropping silverware on a daily basis.

"You astonish me, Erik."

"How so?" I pulled out a chair for her to sit in, feeling her accepting my offer.

"Before I left, you wanted to die. Now look at you. You're living on your own, completing daily chores as if they were the easiest tasks in the world."

"They weren't at first. It still takes me nearly thirty minutes to dress myself."

"You do a wonderful job at it though."

I didn't say another word, only took a seat as Christine tended to our meal.

"I love your home, Erik, but…"

"But what?"

"I just thought it would have been more musical."

"Musical?"

"Yes, in your lair you had musical instruments laying around. There isn't one here."

"I have a music room." I said. "With a piano."

I took a bite of my dinner, only to notice that it tasted like the stew she had made me months ago.

"This is wonderful, Christine."

"So you play?"

"What?"

"The piano. Do you play it again?"

I shook my head.

"I haven't touched it."

"And why not?" her voice was so concerned, as if she were angry over the fact that I hadn't attempted to play.

"Because it would kill me to know that I couldn't play it, Christine."

"But you won't know unless you try."

"I'd rather not."

Christine finally silenced, calming down my anger.

"The snow is getting really bad out there."

"You shouldn't leave." I blurted out. "What if you fall?"

"And what do you suppose I do?" she giggled. "Spend the night with you?"

"Where else?" I growled.

"Oh, you're serious."

"Quite."

"Erik, you don't have to do that."

"No, you're right, I don't. My home may be small, but it's warm and shelter from the storm."

"That's very kind of you."

"It's the least I could do, Christine. You can have my bed. I'll take the couch."

"No, the couch will be quite all right, Erik."

"If you insist."

When our meal was finished, Christine insisted on washing the dishes. I offered to help, but she told me to get changed for the evening. I was indeed beginning to get uncomfortable in my day attire and the thought of changing into my night clothes sounded wonderful. I agreed, and walked to my room, being quiet so I wouldn't disturb Gustave. As far as I knew, he was still fast asleep in his carrier. As I carefully changed into my nightclothes, I couldn't help but feel Ayesha circling my legs.

"Ayesha, enough." I whispered. "You're going to wake Gustave."

As my fingers ran over each button, I made sure to fasten each one, making sure that I looked presentable.

When I was finally dressed, I grabbed a pile of folded blankets out of the closet and carried them towards the family room.

"Christine?" I called her name, not knowing where she was. "I have some blankets for you."

"Do you have a nightshirt I could borrow?"

The sudden sound of her voice frightened me, causing me to jump.

"I'm sorry, Erik."

She took the blankets out of my grasp, her fingers brushing my own.

"Are you sure you're going to be all right?" I asked. "You're more than welcomed to have my bed."

"I'll be as comfy as ever. What about Gustave?"

"Oh, he can stay in my room. It's better for him."

"What if-"

"He get's up in the night?" I chuckled. "I'll get up with him."

"Erik, you don't have to."

"No, I don't, but you've been up with him since his birth. I'll give you a break."

Christine's arms instantly wrapped around me and I hugged her back.

"You're a wonderful man, Erik."

Wonderful? She never called me that before. Was I really all that wonderful? I had a past dark enough to blacken the brightest day, and yet, my angel was calling me _wonderful_.

"Get your rest, Christine."

When we broke from our hug, I walked to my room and closed the door. My son was still fast asleep in his carrier that I placed beside me on my bed. To ensure that he wouldn't catch a chill, I placed an extra blanket over his tiny body. This was my son…my own flesh and blood. When I had touched his face earlier in the evening, I felt flawless flesh. He was perfect in every way, but I still couldn't help but feel the need to actually see him. If only my blindness could clear for just a second. In my mind, I could picture Christine, even Meg or Madame Giry, but Gustave? Even feeling his face wasn't enough to give me an image.

From down on the floor, I heard Ayesha growling. She was obviously upset that Gustave was in her usual spot. When she wouldn't silence, I threw my pillow at her.

"Enough, Ayesha, be nice!" I snapped.

Finally, she silenced, but jumped up and sat on my head.

"Oh, this is real mature, Ayesha." I shooed her away, only to hear Gustave whimpering a few moments later.

I gasped, and sat up to feel that Ayesha had crawled into Gustave's carrier and laid over his body.

"Get out of there!"

This had angered me greatly, for I snatched her by the nape of her neck and carried her to my bedroom door as she squirmed and hissed about. I was so angry over what she had done, that I threw her out the door and closed it. If Ayesha couldn't spend the night in my room without being hostel towards Gustave, then she wasn't going to be spending it in my room at all. Gustave was sobbing now, it was obvious that something as strange as Ayesha had frightened him.

"It's all right, Gustave." I cooed, stumbling back to the bed to pick him up.

Holding an infant was something still foreign to me, but I knew I would have to get used to it. I rocked him in my arms, being sure to support his head. After a few moments he seemed to have calmed down. I swayed him a while more, hearing him giggling as I did so.

"You like that?"

I held him up in the air and then lowered him, his giggling continuing.

When I attempted to place him back into his carrier, he began whimpering again so instead, I placed him beside me within the blankets.

"All right, but only for a little while." I yawned.

And then, my son snuggled his head into my chest. The moment I felt him do so, was the moment I knew this child was me. When I was his age, I was already sitting up on my own and crawling around the house. If he was anything like me, he would be amazing Christine in no time.

"You won't have to live like I did, Gustave." I promised. "You'll be loved."

And as if he were trying to say that he was listening, he wrapped his hand around my finger. For the second time in my life, I was happy. The first time had been on the night Christine and I made love, and now, my son was making me feel the wonderful sensation yet again. Perhaps my life wasn't meaningless after all. Yes, I was blind, but now I had a son to take care of. There was so much I wanted to teach him already, but I knew within time, he would come to love everything I did…Perhaps Christine could love me as well.

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><p><strong>Please review everyone! More to come soon!<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**Erik's POV**

The following morning, I awoke expecting Gustave to be still laying beside me, but he wasn't. I gasped, instantly sitting up and feeling around for any sign of him. Oh, if he had fallen out of bed during the night, I would never forgive myself.

"Christine!" I shouted her name as I went for my staff, still fidgeting around hoping to find him laying on the floor. When I took notice that his carrier was no longer placed on my bed, I hurried down the hall like a bat out of hell.

"Christine!"

I was relieved when I entered the kitchen and noticed Christine's shadow sitting there.

"Christine, Gustave…" I was so out of breath, that I could hardly speak. "He's not in my room."

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Erik." her voice sounded angry, and I could only wonder why?

"What?"

"I came into your room this morning and found Gustave in bed with you."

"Yes, he whimpered when I attempted to place him back into his carrier last night."

"Erik, I trusted you to take care of him, and instead, you put him in danger."

"Danger?"

"What if you rolled over on him? What if he fell out of bed? That's why he was in his carrier, Erik!"

Now that I thought about it, sleeping with Gustave wasn't the best idea in the world.

"Christine, I'm so-"

"What? Sorry? Erik, I trusted you with him."

"Well, it's not like I'm a professional at this too, Christine! I made a mistake…"

"I should have never came here. I should have continued raising Gustave on my own."

She rose to her feet and headed to the door.

"Where are you going?" I attempted to hurry to her side, but she was already out the door and headed down the drive. "Christine…wait!"

I would have chased after her, but the snow and sunlight made everything so bright that it hurt my eyes. To stop the burning pain caused by the light, I closed the door.

"I'm a horrible father."

Christine had brought a child into my life, and in an instant, she took him away. Everything was going so well….I was even looking forward to sharing breakfast with her. I plopped down into a chair, wondering what to do, when all of a sudden, a knock occurred at the door.

"Christine!" I knew she would give me a second chance. I hurried right back to the door, apologizing as I opened it.

"Christine, I'm terribly sorry- really, I am."

"Christine?"

It wasn't Christine after all… Instead of Christine, I was standing face to face with Miss Fleck. I could tell by her voice.

"Oh, it's only you."

I turned my back and made my way towards the kitchen counter as I heard her enter and the door re-close.

"Just me?" she scoffed. "Who else did you expect?"

"If only you knew the night I had."

I reached up to the top cabinet for two mugs, my heart aching as though I had just lost Christine forever. With the stunt I had pulled, I wouldn't doubt it were true.

"Well, by that black eye, I'd say it wasn't a good one."

I felt her chilled hand touching my bruised face. It was strange feeling someone's hands touching me.

"Erik, what happened to you?"

"That happened a few days ago. I was beat up while shopping in town."

"Are you all right?" her voice was filled with so much concern as she continued running her hands over my cuts.

"Yes, yes, I'm all right. A little sore, but it's nothing serious."

All of this sudden contact with her was making me uncomfortable, and I slightly grabbed her hand to lower it, placing a mug into it.

"You will join me for tea, won't you?"

"I'd love to, Erik. I've been out shoveling the fairgrounds all morning."

While the water was heating up for our tea, I took a seat with her at the table. It was strange having a friend besides Christine to talk to. I never had a true friend in all my life…Christine was the only other being on this earth I thought I could relate to, but now, miss Fleck made two. She was an outcast just like me and instead of running, she stuck close by.

"Exactly what kind of night did you have, Erik?" she stood as she asked this, making her way to the kitchen counter. What was she up to? "Um…please, do tell."

She placed something small in front of me. I wasn't sure what it was, but as I ran my fingers over its smooth texture and rubber top, I knew this was Gustave's bottle.

"I didn't know you still drank out of bottles," she teased. "But this is Coney Island and one is not to judge."

"It's not mine. Don't be silly, woman."

"Well, one could only imagine what a middle aged blind man is doing with a baby bottle?"

"Christine was here." I blurted. "She…she wanted to see me."

"What? Really? Christine? Here? With you?"

I nodded. "Her best friend knows me, and well, Christine asked to see me. I allowed it and she came last night."

"Still doesn't explain the bottle."

"She brought her son."

"Oh…so?…"

"She told me that I fathered him."

"What? That's impossible, Erik, in order to conceive a baby you have to-"

"I did!" I snapped, pounding my fist against the table. "You know this, I told you months ago."

"Did you know that she conceived a child?"

"Not until last night."

"So, what's his name?"

"Gustave, after her father."

"And is he cute?"

"He's…" I paused, already missing my son. It broke my heart to know that Christine left because of something I did. "I couldn't see him, but…but I touched his face. He's perfect."

"So, where is he?"

"I upset Christine and she took him away."

"Upset her how?"

"I told Christine that I would take care of Gustave last night so she could sleep. He was fussy, and I only meant to help him sleep!" I assured. "I placed him in bed with me….It was a foolish idea, and when Christine came in this morning and saw him in my bed, she became upset. She has a right to be though…What if he fell out of bed? What if I rolled over on him?"

"Yes, that was a terrible thing to do, but you're human, Erik. Did you tell her that you were sorry?"

"I tried, oh, how I tried, Fleck. She wouldn't listen to me. I don't blame her….She'll probably never trust me with Gustave ever again."

"Don't say that, Erik."

"It's true…"

"Good things always come to the right people."

She patted me on the back before getting to her feet

"Where are you going?" I asked. "I thought you were going to have tea with me?"

"I have to get back to shoveling snow. You should come by the pub some night. It be nice."

"Perhaps. The doctor said I am to stay off my feet for a few days."

"I'll see you around."

When the door closed again, I placed my head down in my hands. So many emotions were running through my body. Anger, guilt, and sadness swirled about me….But who was I? I was the Phantom of the opera! Christine had caused me to grow soft! No…if she didn't want to be a part of my life, then who was I to care? I did, after all, let her go, didn't I? Yes, I did, so who was I to sit here and mope? My whole life had been filled with nothing but disappointment, so what changes anything now? I squeezed my fists and pounded them against the table as hard as I could. When all emotion was drained from my body, I plopped down on my bed, completely exhausted and empty. When I finally heard the grandfather clock strike four, I rose and placed on my jacket. The sun had most likely began to set, making the brightness tolerable enough to shovel my drive.

The snow sank up to my knees, making my legs unbearably cold. I shoveled as quickly as possible, the snow burning my hands with an icy chill. The weight of the snow against the shovel made my sore body ache worse than it already did. Each time I had to bed down, pain would shoot through my back and end up in my neck. When I finally finished, I went back inside and set a kettle of water over the stove. While it was heating up, I unchanged out of my wet clothes and into my pajamas.

Before I lost the ability to play my music, my life seemed satisfying. But now that I didn't have my music, or Christine, I couldn't help but feel completely empty. After nearly spilling the boiling tea on my hand, I managed to make my way into the family room to have a seat on the couch. When I attempted to turn on the lights, the brightness burned my eyes. I attempted to shield them with my hand, only to drop the scorching cup of tea on my bare feet. My body jumped up into the air, slipping on the spilled liquid the moment my feet came in contact with the floor. I always kept my lights on a dim setting, but Christine must have turned up the lights while she was here.

After dimming them again, I heard a knock at my door. My left foot was throbbing from the scorching tea, while the pain in my eyes was finally dulling.

"Yes?" I cried out. "Who's there?"

I limped to the door and opened it with the hand that wasn't covering my eyes. I waited for an answer, but there was silence.

"Erik, are you all right?"

I knew that concerned voice…Christine!

When I dared to lower my hand, I did indeed spot Christine's shadow standing there. What was she doing here?

"I had an accident in the other room." I replied. "Dropped a glass filled with scorching tea-What are you doing here?"

"I came by to see you."

"See me?" I growled. "I thought your early morning flee was enough to explain that you never wished to see me again."

"Could I come in?"

I stepped aside and let her enter before closing the door. As I made my way back to the family room to clean up, I couldn't help but notice that she was following me.

"Do me a favor, Christine and return the lights to their current setting if you happen to touch them."

"What?"

"You turned up the lights." I stated pointing to the wall. "I had them dimmed for a reason. The brightness hurts my eyes."

"Oh, Erik, I'm so sorry."

"Yes, well, it wasn't a pleasant surprise when I turned them on five minutes ago."

I took a seat on my couch and rubbed my temple, feeling a terrible headache coming on.

"And by the mess on the floor I take it that I caused that as well?"

"It's nothing." I waved my hand about. "I'll clean it up."

"No, allow me."

Before I could say another word, Christine was on her knees picking up the broken pieces of my mug and wiping the floor.

"I noticed you shoveled your drive."

"Yes, a little while ago. Not the most pleasant chore, but it's better than slipping on one of my outings."

"Your friend came by Madame Giry's today."

"Friend?" I questioned. "What friend are you talking about?"

"Your friend with purple hair and a feather jacket. Does Miss Fleck ring any bells?"

"I wouldn't call her a friend."

"Well, she seemed to have a lot of good things to say about you, Erik."

"She is an acquaintance and nothing more."

Christine was sitting beside me now, her fingers lightly brushing over the bottom of my burned foot.

"I'm sorry, Erik. I shouldn't have left like I did. It was very kind of you to let me spend the night and instead of fleeing, I should have spoke to you about what happened."

"No, Christine. It was foolish of me to let Gustave sleep in my bed."

"Yes, it was, but you're no better at being a parent than I am. We're both amateurs. I've made some mistakes as well. It's just that Gustave means so much to me and I don't want anything bad to happen to him…he's all I have left in this world. I've just been so stressed with trying to provide for him without a job."

Her apology made me feel a bit better about my mistake, and I even felt bad for impregnating her. Here was a woman with no job, no suitable home and I haven't even offered to help out. I was the horrible parent here…

"Have you tried looking for a job?"

"When I was pregnant, I tried everywhere, but they wouldn't hire me. I guess no one wanted a single mother as a worker. I could understand why… The child would always be a hassle for the mother. I would try again, but I can't expect Madame Giry to always be taking care of him."

I placed my hand over her own, lightly squeezing it to calm her down.

"Christine, let me help you."

"Erik, I-"

"Don't argue, Christine. I could help you financially with anything you need. It's the least I can do."

"Erik, I couldn't possibly accept your money."

"I didn't say that I was giving you money, Christine. I wanted to help out by doing what ever is needed to care for the boy. If you'd like, I will allow you to move in with me."

"Move in?"

She seemed frightened, but I wasn't sure why. I didn't like her living with Madame Giry. The woman took care of me just as well as she takes care of her garbage. She was the last person I wanted looking after my son.

"I have plenty of other unoccupied rooms in the house, Christine." I said, attempting to ease her worries. "Plus, it would make things easier to have Gustave's furniture and what not here instead of at Madame Giry's. That way, you wouldn't have to lug it over here every time you come to visit."

"Erik, that's very kind of you, but could I perhaps sleep on it for a few days?"

I pulled my hand away. My offer was obviously appalling to her. Having to live with me and my problems all day long seven days a week was probably not in her agenda. At least I tried! At least I was attempting to help her. That was more than anyone else was doing!

"My offer revolts you?"

"What? No…it's very generous of you, Erik, really…only-"

"Only what?" I growled. "Do you think I'll perhaps drop the child? That I'll accidentally drown him in the bath tub?"

"What? No. I just don't want to seem ungrateful by moving out of Madam Giry's home. She took me in when no one else would. What kind of person would I look like if I go to her and tell her that I'm moving out because you offered me a place to stay?"

"That woman deserves nothing. Here I am offering you my home, and yet, you can't accept because of some cruel woman's feelings."

"Erik, please…"

"Please what?"

"It's very kind of you, Erik, really. I would love to move in here with you, but just give me a few days to think about it."

"If that is what you wish."

"It is."

She took my hand in her own again, lightly squeezing it.

"And in return, I'll cook and clean up to earn my keep."

"I didn't ask you to come here so you could be my maid, Christine."

"Yes, I know, but it's the least I could do."

"If you wish…"

"Um…Meg is watching Gustave right now." Christine began, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "To apologize for today, why don't I take you out to dinner?"

"You don't have to do that, Christine."

"You're right, I don't, but I want to."

"If you insist. I do have to get changed though."

"Take your time."

Christine was taking me out to dinner. The mere words ran through my mind as I walked down the hall to reach my room. I dressed as quickly as possible, running my hands over my clothes to insure that every button was fastened. As I went for my vest, I heard Ayesha growling at me. It was obvious that she was still angry over what happened the other night.

"Ayesha, I'm sorry, all right?"

When I attempted to pet her, she clawed my hand.

"Ayesha!" I pulled my hand away, pressing the bleeding scratch to my lips. "Fine! But I'm leaving the house in darkness you ungrateful feline!"

I quickly threw on my jacket, and headed back down the hall to meet Christine.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Erik…" she gasped and took my scratched hand into her own. "What happened to your hand?"

"Ayesha is in a rather foul mood because I threw her out in the hall the other night."

Christine rubbed my scratch with her fingers, before leading me out the door. It was a cold, windy evening and now that it was dark, I couldn't see anything. No, Christine was leading me. This was why I never went out after dark. During the day, the sunlight gave enough light for me to be able to see shadows and outlines. Once the sun went down, my ability to see faded away it.

"Winters here sure are cold." Christine said as we walked on arm in arm.

"Are you warm enough?"

"Yes," she shivered.

"Where are we going?"

"Someplace I know in Coney Island."

"That explains a lot."

Christine giggled. "Oh, Erik, just come along without arguing."

"Well, you're obviously going to have to know the way because I don't."

But as long as Christine was here beside me, I wasn't afraid. Actually, the familiar warmth and safeness I had once felt when traveling with her in Paris had finally returned. For the first time in a while, I no longer felt as though I was alone in the dark…

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><p><strong>Sorry about the long update. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to throw them my way. <strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**Christine's POV**

Leaving Erik was the biggest mistake of my life. I had waken in his embrace, ready to surrender my love to him. But from outside, I heard people talking, strange voices of men. Curious, I rose while Erik slept, walking to the window to have a look. There were guards searching the city, Raoul's guards! I knew for Erik's own safety, I had to leave him. So, that's exactly what I did. I dressed as quickly as possible and fled out the door before he could wake. I surrendered myself to Raoul's guards, going quietly in hopes that all search for Erik would be called off.

I returned to Raoul, hoping our relationship would mend itself. Though, it didn't and everyday, Raoul battered me into explaining everything to him. I didn't and went on living with him as if nothing had happened between Erik and I. But, when I began getting morning sickness, I knew in my mind that what Erik and I shared had created a life! I was pregnant with his child…It was 100 percent his offspring, for I had yet to lay with Raoul. I came clean, explaining everything to Raoul in hopes of having him accept me, only he didn't. He beat me and threatened to abort my monstrous seed and so I left him. Having this child meant more to me than anything and by sticking around Raoul, I knew this wouldn't become a reality. After weeks at sea, I expected to dock and search for Erik, to beg him for forgiveness. Only when I arrived, Meg told me that Erik was dead.

I didn't want to believe it, but what other choice did I have? But now, here I was, with him at last again. He had come so far with caring for himself. Not only was he living on his own, but he was taking care of simple household chores, cooking and even dressing himself. And tonight, he and I were going to dinner. It was the least I could do for him after the offer he had just laid out for me. Live with him… that's what he wanted. I would have said yes, but I needed to explain everything to Madame Giry first. She had taken me in when I arrived a few months prior, helped me through the remainder of my pregnancy and through Gustave's birth. To just tell her flat out that I was leaving would not only be rude, but also make it seem as if I was using her for shelter and nothing more.

Erik and I walked arm in arm to the nearest Coney Island restaurant to enjoy a meal. I noticed that since it was dark out that Erik was having a hard time walking, but I never left his side, escorting him into the small diner. There were plenty of restaurants on Coney Island that I could have taken him to, but I wanted our first night together to be quiet and private from crowds. The waitress escorted us to a back booth where there were gas lamps burning bright on the wall. Erik immediately shielded his eyes and groaned making it obvious that the lights were too bright for him.

"Could I please have the lights dimmed?" I asked the waitress as I helped Erik sit. "Brightness bothers my friend's eyes."

"Of course." she replied before reaching over to dim the lamps. After placing a few menus on the table, she left us alone.

"Are you all right, Erik?"

Erik rubbed his eyes and nodded.

"Yes, thank you for dimming the lights."

"Well, I wouldn't have sat here with you in pain."

"It was wrong of me to agree to come out." he said, his blue orbs still as unfocused as the day I left him. "I'm being a burden to you."

"Erik, please don't say such a thing."

I placed my hand over his own, lightly squeezing it as I lifted my menu.

"I wanted to bring you to dinner." I opened my menu, and began to look at the choices. "I'll read the selections to you, Erik, if you'd like?"

"No, I'd rather not sit here and be treated like a blind man."

"Erik-"

I paused when I noticed he had tears in his eyes. I knew being blind was a struggle for him everyday, but he was alive and that's what mattered. To make him feel better, I rose from my seat and sat beside him, placing my hand on his thigh.

"Wh…What are you doing?"

I took his hand and clasped it around the end of the menu so it looked like he was holding it. I then leaned my head against his shoulder and began to softly read the choices to him.

"Why do you want to be in my company, Christine? The company of a stupid blind man."

"Erik, you're not stupid." I caressed his cheek. "You've come so far. Most people would have just given up, but you didn't, you taught yourself how to do everything you normally do. You're a smart man, Erik, a genius no doubt."

When the waitress returned, she placed two glasses of water down on the table. Though, she had no idea that Erik was blind and placed his right beside his arm. Moments later, the sound of my voice telling the waitress what I wanted grabbed his attention, causing his arm to shift and knock over the glass. The water spilled into his lap and across the table, causing us all to gasp.

"Monsieur," the waitress began in a teasing tone. "You knocked over that glass as if you didn't see it sitting there… like a blind man."

I knew the waitress meant no harm, but Erik thought otherwise. She was sopping up the spilled water with a towel in front of Erik, when his hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

"You think my affliction is something to joke about, Madame?"

"Erik!" I quickly reached across the table and freed the waitress's wrist. "She didn't know."

The waitress took a few steps back in shock over what Erik had done. Instead of letting her continue to wipe up, I grabbed the towel and finished.

"I'll do it." I said. "Just bring us our orders when they're ready."

She nervously nodded, before hurrying away from our table like a frightened child.

"Erik, she didn't know." I said upon wiping up the remaining liquid.

When I dared to look up at him, there were tears streaming down his cheeks, his bottom lip quivering as if he were trying to hold back.

"Erik?"

But he didn't say a word, only rose to his feet and began stumbling down the isle to make it to the door. I sighed and placed the soaked towel aside before getting up to follow him. I didn't have to go far, for he was standing right outside the dinner.

"Erik, you're going to catch your death out here." I approached him, only to notice that he was still crying.

When he didn't answer me, I stood in front of him to button up his jacket, but his hands clasped around my own.

"Don't! Just leave me be, Christine. I'm an embarrassment."

"So what, Erik? You spilled a glass of water. It happens."

The wind was gusting, only causing me to shiver as I stood there with Erik.

"That's not the point, Christine! I've screwed everything up so far. I can't be trusted with Gustave, nor can I come out with you and enjoy a meal without looking like a complete fool!"

"I don't care what others think, Erik. You're my angel of music and nothing will ever change that. Yes, you make mistakes, but who doesn't? I made plenty of mistakes when you were teaching me how to sing, but you always told me to try again. Well, I'm telling you to do that now, Erik."

There was a few moments of silence, before Erik finally turned to me and said the words I had been waiting for.

"It's cold out here, Christine, let's get back inside where it's warm."

I helped him sit back down, and to make him feel more comfortable, I sat beside him.

"If you'd like, Erik, I'll bring Gustave over tomorrow. We could have lunch together?"

"That sounds all right, Christine."

When our food arrived, Erik gently grasped the waitress's hand, causing her to gasp as if he were going to hurt her.

"Madame, I'm sorry for the way I acted earlier."

I smiled at Erik's apology. The only person he ever apologized to was me.

"It's all right, monsieur. I accept your apology."

When the waitress left, I placed my hand over his own.

"I'm proud of you, Erik."

"Thank you, Christine."

To help him, I placed Erik's fork into his hand and guided him to his plate.

"Here, Erik."

"Thank you, Christine."

For the first time in a long time, we enjoyed one another's company. He and I held a small conversation while we ate out meal. It hurt me deep inside to know that he worked in a freak show showing off his face to a paying crowd. What hurt even worse was the fact that he went around saying that it was all he was good for. My angel was so much better than that. Before he went blind, he built opera houses, created beautiful music even taught me how to sing. Without his lessons, I wouldn't be where I'm at today.

"How's your chicken?" I asked a while later.

"Can I let you in on a little secret?" he asked.

I giggled. "Of course."

He leaned in real close to my ear and whispered ever so softly into it.

"Yours is better."

I smiled, oh, how I smiled. Even after all these months, Erik still remembers my cooking.

"Really now?"

"Yes, Christine."

"Well, I shall have to make you that meal again very soon."

When I looked up at him, there was a small smile forming at the corner of his mouth. Once our meal was finished, I reached into my purse to pull out the money for our check, but Erik grabbed my hand.

"No, Christine."

No? What was he talking about? I had offered to take him to dinner, and here he was trying to pay for it.

"Erik, I'm the one who took you to dinner."

"And you need your money." he finished, reaching into his jacket for his wallet. "Gustave needs clothes and diapers."

"Erik-"

"Keep arguing with me and I just might have to keep taking you to dinner." he opened his wallet, feeling around for the check. "Now, how much is it?"

"Five dollars."

Erik took out a huge wad of money, counting what looked to be like a wad of singles. After counting out five dollars, he placed it with the check beneath an empty glass.

"Ready?"

"Singles, Erik?" I asked.

"It's the only way I can know the amount of money I have, Christine."

As we stood up, I turned to help him button up his jacket, only to notice that he had some sauce smeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Erik, you have something on your lips."

From the table, I took a napkin and wet it with my saliva before rubbing it at the corner of his mouth.

"Did you get it all?"

"Yes."

After placing the napkin down, I interlaced my arm with his own. Once outside, I stayed close to Erik's body as we walked back to the house. The snow was beginning to fall again, causing my jacket to become soaked.

"Is it snowing again?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, looking towards the sky.

"Better stay close." Erik said, pulling me closer to him.

When we arrived back at the house, Erik felt around with his hand until he reached the doorknob, unlocking the door with a skeleton key.

"You will come in, won't you?" he asked. "You're soaking wet."

"Erik, it's getting late." I didn't want to continue this evening. We had just became friends again and I didn't want to move to fast. "Gustave is probably waiting for me."

"Christine, you'll catch your death if you go home as wet as you are."

He was right. I had a son to take care of. The last thing I needed was to become ill. I decided to go inside just long enough to dry.

"All right."

Once inside, I turned on the lights and took off my wet jacket. A few seconds later, Erik held out his arm to take my wet garment, and placed it over the heater with his own. Even though my jacket was off, I was still a little wet and very cold.

"I may not be able to see you shivering, Christine, but I can hear you."

Erik extended his arms out towards the couch, feeling around until he found the folded blanket laying on top of it.

"Here, Christine."

He unwrapped the blanket, and placed it over my shoulders.

"There you are."

"Thank you, Erik."

When I turned to face him, I couldn't help but notice that Erik was shivering as well.

"Erik," I ran my fingers up his shirt as I draped the blanket around us both. "I had a wonderful night."

"Yes, me too."

"I promise to think about your offer, Erik."

And then, I brushed my fingers gently under his eyes. The redness has cleared up leaving his blue orbs flawlessly beautiful again. Oh, how I loved his eyes. He stood there, caressing my hand against his cheek like old times, as if nothing had ever come between us. I could have stayed just like this all night, but the grandfather clock in the hall began to strike the hour, Erik counting each chime with the softest tone of voice. It was obvious that the reason he had the clock was so that he could know the time without having to actually see it. The final chime ended at eleven, an hour way too late to be out with a child at home. I knew any minute now, he would be up crying for a bottle.

"I'd love to stay longer, Erik, but I must be getting home."

Erik recoiled his hand and nodded, making his way back to the heater to fetch my jacket.

"You're right." he began, feeling around the top of the heater for my garment. "It was foolish to have asked you in, what with Gustave waiting for you at home."

"Erik, it was very kind of you."

"Well, your jacket is dry."

I outstretched my arms, and he placed it over my shoulders.

"I'll be back tomorrow afternoon."

"You're sure you'll be all right walking home?"

"Yes, I'm quite sure."

"Let me walk you to the door."

Erik once again interlaced his arm with my own, assisting me to the front door.

"Thanks again, Erik."

And then I embraced him. He gasped at first, before wrapping his arms around me as well.

"You're welcome, Christine." Erik opened the door to let me out. "Goodnight."

After leaving, I hurried home to get out of the snow. The air had grown crisp and the high winds weren't helping the situation one bit. By the time I made it back to Madame Giry's, my hair was full of snowflakes and my jacket soaked again. To my surprise, Madame Giry was still up, sitting in the kitchen dressed in her black robe.

"I was wondering when you were going to be back?" she taunted, sipping from a steaming cup that was placed beside her.

"Yes, well Erik invited me in after we arrived back from dinner."

"Dinner?" she laughed this time, and not because she found it funny…No, she was teasing him. "Did he stumble his way into town?"

From the tea kettle that was on the stove, I poured some steaming water into a cup, trying to keep myself occupied and far away from where ever Madame Giry was attempting to take this conversation.

"Is Gustave asleep?"

"Yes, he's been asleep for a few hours now. Though, I find it still highly amusing that he was born completely flawless. Are you sure he's Erik's child?"

"Yes, I'm one hundred percent sure."

I slammed my cup down on the counter and turned to face the old woman.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Christine." she waved her finger at me like a child who had done something wrong. "Sleeping with the likes of him."

"Madame, please…"

"What could he possibly offer you? Tell me that! You could have been married to Raoul and spending the rest of your-"

"Maybe Raoul isn't what I want anymore!" I snapped. "Perhaps he was never what I wanted!"

"Don't play dumb with me, Christine. It's quite obvious that you pity that poor animal of yours."

"Don't talk about him that way! He's the father of my child. You're the one who brought him to the opera house in the first place."

"Right, and it is he who has taken up most of my time, using me as his messenger day in and day out. Always taking me away from more important things. When my husband, Jules was on his death bed, your angel of music was keeping me occupied and away from my ailing husband. What makes me angrier is the fact that I saved him, and he chose you to teach instead of Meg!"

Jealousy. That's all Madame Giry felt towards Erik. That's why she was treating him like this, that's why she wanted nothing to do with him.

"You're wrong about Erik, Madame. He has a job, a home, and he's doing so well on his own. He wants to be in Gustave's life…he wants to be there for us."

"He's using you, Christine! He doesn't love, nor does he know how to. He's using you for help with getting around and nothing more! If he had his eye sight he'd blow you off within a fast second. If he could see, he'd be building opera houses and running an amusement park! He wouldn't need your pity!"

Madame Giry was wrong. Erik loved me, and well, I knew I had feelings for him too.

"Hell, if it wasn't for me taking you in, you'd be on the streets with your little bastard wrapped in newspaper."

That was the final straw! I wouldn't stand to be around someone who dared to talk about my child that way, especially because it was Erik's!

"I don't need your help any longer!" I yelled, throwing my cup into the sink and marching towards the stairs. "Erik has offered for me to come live with him, and that's exactly what I'm going to do!"

"Do you really think that's smart? He wants a maid to clean up after him! Do you think he cared about you?"

"Yes, Madame."

"And how do you know this?" the woman grabbed my arm, pulling me off the first step.

"Because when I look in his eyes, I can see the truth, and the truth is that he does care for me."

"What? Those unfocussed eyes? They don't focus on anything, Christine and they sure as hell aren't focusing on you!"

I yanked my arm out of Madame Giry's grasp.

"I'll be gone in a few day's time, Madame. I'll prove you wrong."

And as I stomped up the stairs, I heard Madame Giry's final argument.

"And I'll prove you wrong! You'll be back and begging me for forgiveness!"

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><p><strong>Dun Dun Dun! Please review! Sorry I haven't been updating this one too often. Juggling between two stories is harder than I first thought. Thanks again everyone!<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**Madame Giry's POV**

I had to stop this before Christine's relationship with Erik went any further. I had practically raised her and I'd be damned if she thought I was going to let her ruin her life with the likes of him! I was upset when she had told me who Gustave's father really was. There was just something about it that wasn't adding up. Why would Christine willingly go to bed with Erik when she had Raoul? It didn't make any sense, but moving in with him was not something that was going to happen. Erik was not fit to be a father…hell, he wasn't even fit to live on his own! This is exactly what I needed to prove to Christine. If she could see the man he truly was, then there would still be hope for saving her.

Early the next morning before sunrise, I made my way to Erik's home. I stood there outside the gates until I noticed his feathery whore making her way up his drive. Erik let her in, but a few moments later, they both came walking out, the woman keeping a firm grasp on him.

"Christine's coming over for lunch today, Erik." she said. "You wanted to go into town for some items and I'll escort you."

As they walked away, Erik didn't argue. I waited until they were long gone, before walking to his door and reaching under the mat for a spare key. I would turn his organized world upside down to a point of him having a nervous breakdown. If Christine saw the same mad man I knew that lied inside of him, then everything would be done for. That woman must have helped organize his home when he first moved in. His mugs were all in one corner beside his stack of dinner plates. This wouldn't do… I needed to disorganize something that would completely drive him mad. To stir up his anger, I turned the lights all the way up before shutting them off. He would be in for a huge surprise when he arrived home. Afterwards, I went to his bedroom and opened his wardrobe. All of his clothes were organized by color, but how would he dress if everything was all mixed up? Quickly, I disorganized his clothes, placing each color in a different spot. By the time I was done with it, the inside of his closet looked like a disheveled mess instead of a neat rainbow. I moved his items around on his night table, disorganized his medicine cabinet, even moved his medical vials around that were placed on the sink.

When everything was the way I wanted it, I smiled and left his home. One could only imagine how complicated living alone would be.

**Christine's POV**

I arrived a little earlier than I wanted to the following morning. I was trying at all cost to avoid any contact with Madame Giry. Though, I was glad to find that she was nowhere to be found when I awoke. I had told Erik that I would be over for lunch, but at the early hour I arrived, I guess brunch would have been the better option. In one hand, I was carrying a bag of Gustave's things and in the other, I had Gustave swaddled in a large blanket. My hands were full, but I still managed to knock. When no one answered, I thought that perhaps he was still sleeping, but it was close to ten. Erik never slept, and if he did, he never slept late.

"Erik? Are you home?"

I knocked again, but when I continued to get nothing, I reached down and lifted the key from under the mat to open the door. The house was in darkness, and after placing my things down on the kitchen table, I made my way down the hall to see if Erik was in bed.

"Erik?" I peeked into his room, but his bed was empty and made for the day.

"Well, Gustave it seems that your father has stepped out."

In the bag I had carried over, I had a few of Gustave's blankets and some toys. They were things that could be left behind for when we came to visit…at least until we were completely moved in, which I was hoping to be soon. After spreading out a large blanket I had knitted for Gustave, I placed him down on it and scattered his wooden blocks around him. My son might have only been a few weeks old, but he was so advanced for his age, already sitting up and crawling when he wanted to. For a few moments I stood there watching him as he picked up a block with a large G painted on the front.

"That's right, Gustave… That's G, for your name."

He smiled, the same smile Erik always gave me.

"Miss Fleck, I think I'll be all right from here…" the door in the kitchen opened, and when I turned, I saw Miss Fleck and Erik walking in with a few bags of groceries.

"Erik, don't be silly. You nearly fell on your way back."

"Yes, on a patch of ice that I couldn't see."

Quickly, I hurried to the kitchen and greeted them.

"Erik?"

"Who's there?" he spun around in fright, but seemed to calm once he saw my shadow standing there. "Oh, Christine… wait? You're early."

"Yes, I…I guess I wanted a brunch instead."

"Hello, Christine." Miss Fleck was smiling at me from the ice box.

"Hello again."

"Erik wanted to go into town, so I escorted him."

"That was very kind of you. I think I can take it from here…"

"Yes, I have other things to attend to anyway."

After saying goodbye to Erik, she left as I began to unpack the groceries.

"Is something bothering you, Christine?"

I heard Erik's voice, only to look over and see him standing at the end of the table.

"No, nothing…" I lied. "I…I missed you is all."

A small smile formed at the corner of his mouth. But did I really miss him? I guess I sort of did.

"I made up my mind, Erik."

"So quickly?"

I placed the vegetables into the ice box, hearing the uncertainty in his voice.

"Yes, I want to move in with you."

"You're certain?"

I nodded, thinking about what Madame Giry had said…all the cruel things.

"Positive."

"When?"

"Would now be too fast?"

"Now?"

I continued to place the food into the icebox, his hands coming down over my shoulders, gently massaging them.

"Christine, you're not acting like yourself."

"Erik, I'm all right."

"No, you're not. Last night you weren't sure about moving in. Now, this morning you're certain. You're even a few hours early. Did something happen between Madame Giry and you?"

"No…"

"I can tell by the uncertainty in your voice."

"We had an argument is all."

"About me."

"It's nothing."

"She's probably right, Christine. She's probably right about everything she's said to you."

"No, she's wrong."

When I spun around to meet Erik's gaze, his eyes were unfocused and looking at nothing at all. How badly I wished they would look at me, if only for the slightest of seconds. His hand came up and placed itself against my cheek, lightly smiling at the feeling of warm flesh against his cold hand.

"You know, Christine, I still don't believe you're here with me."

"I am, Erik."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you wish."

"Good, I'll start by making us something to eat."

As Erik pulled his arm away, he ached and grabbed his shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm not supposed to be moving around as much as I am. Doctor's orders until my wounds heal. If you'll excuse me…"

He then headed down the hall as I turned and began washing some carrots to make a stew.

**Erik's POV**

I didn't want to leave the house this morning, but Christine was coming over and I had hardly enough food to make anything at all. Lunch, that's what she wanted. I wasn't supposed to leave my home until my wounds healed from that horrible beating, but Christine was coming and I didn't want to have her here with bare cupboards. Thankfully, Miss Fleck had come over to visit and offered to take me out. I was going to do it alone, but with her at my side, I felt much better. I would, after all, need a pair of eyes to pick out ripe vegetables and fresh bread. But I was now feeling the aches of what I shouldn't have done. I lifted those grocery bags like a fool when Miss Fleck told me not to, and now, I was paying for it. I found my way down the hall, heading to the bathroom to take a capsule of my pain medicine. When I entered the bathroom, I turned on the lights in order to see the outlines of my vials, only to be blinded with agony. The lights were bright! Who the hell turned up the lights!

Quickly, I shielded my eyes with my hand as I attempted to reach for the light switch to turn it off. Christine! It must have been Christine…and after I kindly told her to always dim the lights when she was finished using them. No, I couldn't be angry today…She made a mistake, just like I had made a mistake by allowing Gustave to sleep in my bed. Blindly, I played with the settings of the lights until the light was only bright enough to show the outlines of my medicine vials. But when I reached the sink, they weren't there… What the hell was going on? Where were my vials? I always kept four….One was filled with my pain medicine, another with my eye drops, and the other two were for my deformity incase it became irritated. But they weren't here…nor were they in the order I had placed them in. Had Christine moved them? Quickly, I opened my medicine cabinet, noticing that everything was not in the order I had placed it in. This was driving me completely mad!

"No…" I mouthed this over and over again! My world was becoming disorganized, disorganized and out the exact order I kept everything in. Had she come here early and misplaced all my things to the way she wanted them?

Before going off in an angry rage, I quickly rushed to my room, turning on the lights only to have the same blinding pain occur within my eyes. I was livid now! I gritted my teeth and played with the light switch until I got it back to the setting I kept it on. I made my way over the wardrobe, flying open the doors, only to notice that it was a disheveled mess! My coats were mixed in with my shirts, my shirts were hanging over my trousers! No, no, no, no! Everything had once been color coded! My shirts were always placed neatly by color, but now…now everything was ruined! How would I ever dress myself again! How dare she! How dare Christine come into my home and touch my things!

"Christine!" I shouted her name as I went rushing to the kitchen. When I arrived, she turned on the light switch, the same blinding pain hitting my eyes. Before I had the chance to shield them, I tripped over the table and landed on the floor, my ankle twisting as I did so.

"Oh my gosh…Erik!"

Christine dimmed the lights, before rushing to my side. My leg was throbbing, but my anger for what she had done was still alive inside of me.

"Here, let me help you up."

She was attempting to sit me up, but I pushed her away.

"You have a lot of nerve coming into my home, Christine and switching my things around!"

"Wh..What?"

"You little demon! Don't play dumb with me! All my things, all the lights!"

"Erik, I didn't-"

"Just shut up! Your lies do nothing for me!"

"I'm not lying!"

"You are! I told you before about my lights! I told you time and time again not to touch anything!"

"Erik…" I could hear her getting upset, but I didn't stop.

"I let you move in and this your way of repaying me!"

"Erik, please…"

"I don't want you here, Christine, just go! You're more trouble than your worth!"

"Erik…"

"Get out of here! Get out and don't you come back!"

And then she left… she took my child and left me alone.

**Christine's POV**

I didn't understand what had gotten into him. One minute he was happy to see me, and the next, he was angry. I didn't understand what he was talking about. I had not touched the lights, nor did I touch any of his things…why would I? As I quickly carried Gustave home, I couldn't help but shed a few tears. Why had he treated me in such a way?

"Looks like your lunch went very well, Christine."

I wasn't even halfway through the door of Madame Giry's home when I heard her already taunting me.

"Just leave me alone." I sniffled.

"Oh, Christine, do you believe me now? Do you believe me when I say that he is no good for you? He can't even take control of his own life… how can he ever care for you or the child."

"He…He just wasn't himself."

"That is his usual self, Christine. He's been trying to hide it to impress you, but deep down, he's nothing but a madman!"

"Erik, is a kind person."

"He is a madman! Do you want him raising your child? Think about Gustave and his well being, Christine!"

I looked down at my son, knowing she was right. Perhaps things would be better if I just raised him alone.

"Tell me you're still not moving in with him?"

But I couldn't tell her. I, myself wasn't even sure where to go from here. I didn't say a word, only flew up the stairs to my room to be alone…

**Erik's POV**

Days passed, weeks passed….I had not seen Christine or my son in such a long time. My whole life had been disorganized and I spent that time trying to get it all back to normal. Was this shirt red or black? Was this my robe or day coat? Those were just a few of the questions haunting my mind as I held up each garment. I was in constant pain due to the fact that I had no idea where my medicine was….my eyes hurt worse because I couldn't find my eye drops. I was helpless and mad! Helpless and completely mad! I couldn't eat because my utensils were moved…..my food was scattered around the icebox, making it hard to tell what anything was. I had come so far, so far with trying to live, but hadre-landed back at square one.

When I couldn't take another moment of toying with my disorganized clothes or wondering where my medicine was, I laid in bed….and that's where I stayed. I stayed just like that, my body aching in pain, my body freezing from the cold draft, hungry from no food….even my ankle was throbbing worse than it had. Perhaps it was turning septic….who knew. But I was giving up….I had nothing to live for. Christine hated me, my own child was being kept away and I had no one…

"Erik?"

I laid there a few days later, hearing a strange voice calling my name. I was too weak to move, too weak to care…

"Erik? It's Meg."

How had she gotten into my home? Why was she here?

"Erik?" her voice was getting closer now. "Erik, I was passing by your home and noticed how filled your mailbox was. I placed your mail on the table… Have you not been able to find your way outside?"

I heard my door opening, only to then, hear her gasp.

"Erik?"

I felt her hand at my feverish forehead.

"Erik, can you hear me?" she was slightly shaking me now. "Erik?"

I could only whimper. I felt as though I was going to die, for her voice was fading in and out, my heart pounding against my ears.

"You're freezing."

She covered me up with my quilt and went running out of my room. How I wanted to call her name, but a terrible cough tore through my lungs and choked off any hope of a single word.

**Christine's POV**

I was sitting by the window, rocking Gustave in my arms. I had not seen Erik in over two months…Some nights I wanted to go to him, but the thought of another outburst stopped me. I figured that if he wanted to see me and apologize, he would have found his way to me. It was nearly spring now, and once it arrived, I would search for a job, one that would hopefully bring enough money in so I could move out and into my own place. It was late afternoon, when I heard the door downstairs swing open and Meg's frantic voice talking to her mother. I had never heard Meg sound so scared before, and after placing Gustave in his cradle, I cracked open the door to have a listen.

"Mother, mother….you must come quickly!"

"Meg, calm down." she ignorantly ordered.

"It's Erik, he's dying."

"Dying?" she laughed…the old woman was laughing! Erik was dying? My god! What if he's been this way since his outburst? What if he was too injured to call for help or make his way over here? What if that's the reason he hasn't attempted to see me?

"Mother, I went past his house today and noticed how full the mailbox was. I took his mail inside and found him trembling in his bed. He's got a very high fever and he was unresponsive."

"He should have listened to me when I told him to go live in a home with other blind men. But no, he was a stubborn fool, and now, he can die like one."

I gasped, instantly grabbing Gustave before rushing down the stairs.

"Is it true, Meg?"

Meg nodded.

"Then there isn't any time to waste…"

Madame Giry protested, but I wasn't listening to her… My angel needed me and I was going to be there for him.

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><p><strong>Sorry about the looooong delay in updating. Been extra busy but more is to come, I promise you. Please review!<strong>


	20. Chapter 20

**Christine's POV**

Meg had been right about Erik. As soon as I arrived at his house, I noticed him on death's door. My poor angel looked as though he had not eaten in days. On top of that, he seemed dehydrated and had a high fever. He wasn't even conscious by the time I arrived. I knew that our little argument days ago had made him this way. Well, it wasn't days ago, weeks, actually. Erik's anger was a terrible one at times, making knowing his emotions ever harder than it seemed. But this time, I refused to abandon him. I took my time, nursing him back to health, and what a difficult task it was. Meg warned me about getting a doctor, but I decided to take matters into my own hands and mend his broken body myself. Knowing that I couldn't leave him alone, I moved Gustave and I into Erik's home.

His home was comfy and had plenty of space for Gustave to play on while I tended to my angel of music. I was worried about him, so much, especially since he hadn't woken since I arrived. Sometimes, I was lucky enough to get liquids down his throat. He didn't respond to me, nor did he open his eyes. It had been nearly two days since I had found him on deaths door, and still he had yet to wake. But, I finally made a vow that if he didn't wake by the weekend, I would seek out the help of a doctor. In Erik's family room, I set up a tiny play pen/cradle for Gustave. It was where he played and slept during the day. After feeding my little cherub and rocking him to sleep, I placed him down into his pen and wandered to Erik's bedroom to cheek on my angel of music.

For days now, I had been placing compresses against his head to bring down his fever. It had seemed to be working, for my angel's high temperature had come down, leaving him just unbearably warm instead of on fire. I tucked the blankets around his body, and ran my fingers through his sparse locks of hair.

"Erik," I interlaced my hand with his own as I took a seat at his bedside. In a few hours, I would seek out the comfort of his couch, but for the time being, I would comfort him. Ever since I moved myself in, I had not only been taking care of him, but I had also placed his medicine cabinet back into order. I wasn't sure how his things had gotten out of place, but it was the reason why he had shouted at me. Perhaps my angel had done so without even knowing? I wasn't sure, but whenever he woke, life would be back to normal.

"Would you like it if I sang to you, angel?" I asked, staring down at his sleeping form. "Gustave enjoys it when I sing to him. I know you always enjoyed it too."

I had hoped that by singing, my angel would wake. If he heard my voice, surely he would open his eyes. I sat there, humming to him at first, humming a soft lullaby. I usually sang Gustave the same one each night. Oh, how I wished for nothing more than for my angel of music to open his eyes, but even after my song had ended, he still seemed to be sleeping. I placed my palm firmly against his head and sighed…

"Sleep well, Erik. I'll be here when you wake." With that being said, I pressed my lips to his forehead and rose to my feet. It was late, and I knew sooner or later Gustave would be waking for his midnight feeding. Deciding to get some sleep before he began to cry, I made sure there was wood burning in my angel's fireplace and closed his door behind me. His fever was still at the same height, but I knew if he didn't attempt to stir by morning, that I would be seeking a doctor. I have done all that I could possibly do for him; I could only hope that it would be enough.

**Erik's POV**

I felt warm. That's the first thing I took notice to when I woke. Yes, everything was dark, but I could hear the fire crackling in the hearth, making it obvious that someone was in my home with me. My body was weak, extremely weak, making moving any part of it nearly impossible. The last thing I remember is lying here and ready to give up. But how had that changed? I snuggled deep into my pillow, softly groaning as my eye lids burned. If there was one thing I hated, it was being blind. It made life difficult for me, so difficult that I hated living half the time. My throat was dry, causing me to cough. I thought nothing of it, not until I heard my door open and to hear footsteps approaching my bed. I didn't make any sudden movements, keeping quiet until I knew who was there.

"Erik?"

When I heard my angel's voice, my body tensed. What was she doing here? Hadn't my anger scared her away? I wasn't sure whether to respond, so instead, I laid there with my eyes closed. I felt her hand brush against my forehead, her voice pleading with me to respond to her. But why? Why was she sounding so worried?

"Erik, please, answer me."

Never have I ever heard her sound so desperate and worried before. Yes, I could have stayed silent due to how ill I felt, but instead, I gathered all the strength I could muster and rolled over only to back, opening my eyes. I heard her gasp, and then, saw the blinding lights. I shielded my eyes with the back of my hand, begging her to dim them. Oh, how my eyes hated when the lights were too bright. It burned them like fire.

"Oh, forgive me, Erik." She pleaded, the lights becoming dimmer. I rubbed my temple, looking up at my angel's shadow. Her hand came down over my forehead, caressing my brow for the longest of time.

"Angel, how are you feeling?"

"Not so well, Christine."

I laid back down against my pillows and moaned as my eyes continued to burn from the dreaded fever I was battling.

"How about something to drink?" came her angelic voice. "I glass of water perhaps?"

I didn't say a word, only lied there listening to her fumbling about. A few moments later, her hand came behind my head and lifted me to the glass she was apparently holding. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat, making me feel a whole lot better.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked as she tucked me in.

"Why are you here?" I curiously, yet weakly asked. "I was a monster to you."

"Perhaps," Christine said. "But you need me now. Gustave and I are here to stay as long as you need us here. I believe it's better that way, angel. In the morning, if you request it, I shall send for a doctor."

"No doctors." I moaned. "They are useless to me. I shall be back to my old self within time…Never my old old self, for I cannot stand the darkness."

"Darkness used to be your favorite thing."

"But how can it continue being just that when all I ever have is darkness?"

"I know how you feel, Erik."

"No, you don't, Christine." I exhaustedly barked. "You don't."

There was a long pause, and then, I felt my angel's hands against my shoulders.

"You should get your rest, Erik. In the morning, I will cook breakfast and then, perhaps you will feel better. I'll break this fever from you, angel…"

I was so exhausted, that I didn't even say goodnight to Christine when she tucked me in. this was most certainly not the life I believed I would be living. What made matters worse was that I couldn't see a damn thing! To go through each day barely seeing at all, and when I did, only to see shadows, it was agonizing! I had memory of what my angel looked like, but I didn't even have a single clue one what my own son looked like! For the remainder of the night, I laid there staring up at the ceiling…or at least I thought it was the ceiling. I wasn't sure, for everything was dark. Everything to me was the same. If I opened my eyes, it was dark, and when I closed them, it was even darker. I must have drifted off again, for the following morning, I woke to the sound of my son's cries. I wasn't sure why he was crying, but rolled over in bed and snuggled deeper into my pillow, listening to Christine shush the boy and then, my child's joyous giggles. And those giggles made my heart leap with joy…

**Christine's POV**

I was worried about Gustave waking Erik, especially when he began to cry. I worked quickly at changing his diaper and feeding him his morning bottle. When his cries ceased, my boy began to giggle. Oh, how beautiful he was. After placing him back down in his playpen, I hurried into the kitchen to start breakfast. It was another snowy morning, making everything outside Erik's window a wonderland of white. When the potatoes were frying on the stove, I placed another log onto the fireplace to continue keeping Erik's house warm. A few moments later, I heard a knock at the door, only to open it and find Madame Giry standing there.

"Christine,"

"Madame Giry, what are you doing here?"

"Might I ask you the same question?"

"Erik needs me." I said. "He is very sick."

"When are you going to come back home?" she snapped. "I've been waiting for nearly two days now."

"Madame, I can't leave Erik. He has a high fever and is very ill. Look, I'll come back when the time is right."

"You are going to be nothing more than his nurse. Is that the life you wanted, Christine?"

"Madame, just leave me to my business."

I tried to close the door, but Madame Giry put her foot in the way.

"You are making a grave mistake, Christine. That man will do you no good."

"And that is for me to decide, Madame. Now, if you don't mind, I must get back into the kitchen."

Even when I closed the door, Madame Giry was still screaming for me, screaming horrible things about my angel. Yes, Erik had a temper on him, one that could make me hate him sometimes, but it was never enough for me to keep away from him. Even when I lived back in Paris at the opera house, his temper was lethal then as well. After wetting a compress, I carried it into Erik's bedroom and placed it across his burning forehead.

"How are you feeling?"

"My head is pounding." He complained. "And my eyes…" Erik pressed his eyes closed and laid still. I knew he was in dire agony, that being the reason why he needed a doctor.

"Erik, you can't continue going on like this. I think after breakfast I'm going to go into town and find you a doctor."

"No doctors." He groaned. "I'll be all right."

"But you're not."

"I just need my rest is all." He assured. "Just let me rest a day more, Christine. I'm sure by tomorrow morning this will all have passed and everything will be back to normal again."

Deciding not to argue with him, I fixed the blankets on his bed and headed to the door.

"You should take a bath after breakfast." I suggested. "You've been lying in that bed a long time."

And with that, I left my angel to finish preparing breakfast.

**Erik's POV**

Keeping my breakfast down wasn't the easiest task in the world. Though, I suffered through my aching stomach and swallowed every ounce of food my angel fed to me. Afterwards, Christine started a hot bath for me, and I soon found myself sinking into the comfortable waters. I leaned my head against the back of the tub, closing my eyes and allowing the hot water to wash away the grime that was covering my ill body. Besides the sound of dripping water, I could hear Christine rummaging around my bedroom, changing the sheets, no doubt. Even so, my body still felt weak and cold. But, there were things to do, and after taking this bath, I would complete them. Deciding that I had laid enough, I dressed in my robe and made my way out to my armchair that was placed in front of the fire. If it wasn't for my fever, I probably would have shoveled snow, but I knew death would be upon me if I decided to take part in such a task. As the fire crackled, I heard something not too far away; a small clicking sound. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but when I heard my child giggle, I realized that he must have been playing with some toys. Building blocks perhaps?

"There you are." I heard my angel's voice, and then, saw her shadow approaching me. "I freshened your bed for you."

"I'm not interested in lying down at the moment."

"You should be resting."

"I'm going to sit up for a while. Which reminds me, what is Gustave doing?"

"Um…" there was a slight pause, and then, my angel's voice again. "He's playing with a stack of small blocks in his playpen."

My smile faded. "I wish I could see him playing. I even wish I could see him…"

"Would you like to hold him?" Christine asked. "He's grown so much since the last time you held him."

"I don't think it's such a good idea, Christine. With me being sick and all, there's no telling what he could catch…"

"Nonsense, Erik." Christine assured. "You're not contagious. I've been here nearly three days taking care of you and I haven't caught a single thing."

A few moments later, I felt my son being placed onto my lap. His hands gently slapped my knee as he laughed and wailed in happiness.

"Hold him, Erik."

My hands wrapped around his waist as he sat there on my knee. But could my hands stay in one place? Of course not… My hands wandered to his flawless, yet soft face, feeling every ounce of him. He was beauty itself!

"He likes you." Christine assured. "He usually isn't this happy around Madame Giry or Meg. Perhaps he knows you're his father."

"I highly doubt that, angel."

"I believe he does. Why else would he be so happy for?"

"Because he is you, Christine."

When Gustave became too squirmy, Christine lifted him into her arms, murmuring something about having to take a nap. I, myself was becoming tired again, so tired that I stood from where I was sitting and began making my way back to my room.

"Where are you going, Erik?" Christine asked.

"To lay down." I said. "I'm tired again."

"I'll be in to tuck you in bed, angel."

I didn't protest and walked into my bedroom, laying down beneath the blankets only to find Ayesha occupying my spot. Her paws playfully clawed at my arm, her purrs lifting my heavy heart.

"Does this mean that you're sorry?" I questioned, referring to her last outburst of anger when I threw her into the hallway. When her paw hit my cheek, I smiled and petted her on the head.

"What can I say? You have an attitude like your owner. I'm glad to see that you're back to being your old self again."

"I brought you another compress." Christine said, tucking me in. "You should stay in bed for a while."

"Thank you, Christine."

My angel brushed her fingers against my cheek. "You know, Erik, I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"About your offer."

"What offer is that?" I curiously questioned.

"The one you offered me a few weeks ago." She reminded. "The one where you offered to let me move in here with Gustave."

"You're still thinking about that?" I asked. "I'm sure I ruined that offer the moment I burst on you."

"Well, that's over now, isn't it?"

"If you say so…"

"Good, then I've made up my mind."

"You have?"

"Yes. Gustave and I are going to stay with you. It's apparent that you need me here and I think I need some company too."

This made my heart leap with joy! A few weeks back, I was sure I had ruined everything, but now, everything was back to normal! I had my Christine back!

"…And did you notice the bathroom, Erik?" my angel asked as she approached the door.

"No, what about it?"

"Well, everything is back to being organized again. I took the last few days while you were resting and put your medicine and clothes back into order. Everything is waiting for you like it should be…in its proper place."

And when my angel left, all I could simply do was smile…Oh, what a wonderful woman my Christine was.

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><p><strong>So, I'm back by popular demand. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted becuase I'm currently working on 2 stories at the moment, but I shall try my best to upload as often as possible. Perhaps once every two weeks or something until I finish the ones I am working on...Which shouldn't be much longer now. But I dedicate this chapter to DTPhantom, who, for months, has sent me countless emails,bugging me about updating this story. I sure hope you enjoyed it :) Please review!<strong>


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